


To Wear The Devil's Face Chapter Two

by AkemiAsh



Series: To Wear The Devil's Face AU [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Quickly Wear The Devil's Face - Fandom
Genre: 18 on this one guys, And Roy/Jackson is like 28, Between two Men, Ed is Colton, Ed is like, IT - Freeform, Its really not as confusing as it sounds., JUST, M/M, Multiverse Theory, Non-Graphic Sex, PTSD, Painting, Quickly Wear The Devil's Face AU, Read, Roy is Jackson, RoyEd relationship., So.... ten years difference., cuteness, deal with it., mentions of past lives, mentions of past rape, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 01:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17778392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkemiAsh/pseuds/AkemiAsh
Summary: After a living a long and happy life with Roy Mustang, Ed finds himself in the body of another teenager. This time, he is Colton Wilds, an autistic artist who's only passion is at the tip of a paint brush and on the surface of a canvas.The heartache is still fresh in his chest, but Ed still has revenge on his mind. He needs to keep going if he is going to finally take down the Lord God someday, but... Roy?'Could that be you in there? Or is that too much to hope for?' After all, hope is only one disappointment away from being pain. And Ed is sick and tired of hurting.





	1. Chapter 2.1:

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of a series, so if you want to understand anything that is going on, read the first one. Seriously, this should be obvious. It has 'Chapter Two' in the damn title people. Just saying. 
> 
> P.S.: Also guys, I have no fucking clue what autism is really like for people, and despite a lot of fucking research, I found that it affects everyone in many different ways, like the symptoms and struggles for some people are different than others and its just... I got so confused. It's why they call it a spectrum I think... anyways, don't be too harsh on the autism thing, I did research, but this is my best so just read it with a degree of distance. Please.
> 
> Also, if anyone has any interesting AU ideas they would like to throw into the hat, message me on Tumblr: Ashrelfury
> 
> I'll be choosing as I go and crediting anyone whoes ideas I do decide to write. So, check me out :)

Ed remained by Roy’s side until they both grew old, living out a happy life for the first time in several centuries. When the day finally came that Roy’s life came to an end, Ed took only a few minutes to cry, before letting go of his connection to this world, and this body.

He found himself back in his Soul Space.

Alone in his private oasis, Ed lost himself in grief and heartache.

Before, when he’d been a prisoner in the ‘Villain System’, he wasn’t allowed any time to breathe or rest. Instead, the A.I. bracelet that shackled him to the Villain System program, took him directly from the end of one life into the beginning of the next. This time though, Ed curled into a ball in the vast darkness of his shelter, and he slept.

Ed stayed in his Soul Space for a long time, giving himself the first break his soul had had in more than a thousand lifetimes. He gathered his strength as he slept, letting the heartache of losing Roy gradually fade until he felt he was ready to move forward again.

When he awoke, he called out, “Al?”

His brother’s voice answered instantly, “Good morning, Brother. Are you ready to go?”

He wasn’t, but he nodded anyways.

“We gathered a fair bit of power. Since your task last time wasn’t so difficult, it wasn’t enough to expand the Soul Space, but this time should be a little harder. Good luck, Brother!”

Ed closed his golden eyes and allowed himself to be dragged down into the inky darkness.

The next time he opened them, he was standing in front of a partially painted canvas, a brush in one hand, and the smell of poppy oil in the air.

He took a long moment to get used to the new body. Slim, shorter than he was used to, weak too, but Al would fix that without much of a problem. What made Ed pause was the clear evidence of mental problems with the body. Autism, it seemed like, with a dash of selective mutism. It would make interacting with the world that much harder, but Ed had faced worst odds before.

Looking around the environment he’d be living in this time, he noted that the room was fairly empty, no furniture except for a couple of canvases around the area, dotting the four white walls with some splashes of color that caught the eye nicely in the warmly lit room. The large open window looking out into a lush green garden, a clean blue lake in the distance.

The scenery was a work of art all its own.

“Al, you wanna fill me in?” Ed asked out loud, knowing he was the only one in the room and that the only door was securely locked by the memories of the body.

It didn’t take the A.I. long. “The body’s name is Colton Wilds, 18 years old, currently studying at the Academy of Fine Arts. His parents died when he was 10 years old in a car accident. He was adopted by his parent’s best friends, and moved to Japan soon after. For the wedding anniversary, the couple who’d taken him in, had decided to travel around the world, return date unknown.”

Ed listened along, moving his limbs to get himself comfortable with the body and its limits. He’d hardly ever been given enough time in the beginning to get a feel for things. Usually he was thrown right into the action and forced to continue with nothing more than the small list of tasks the A.I. bracelet gave him as he progressed.

He’d learned that the couple that took him in, worried that he couldn’t take care of himself, left him with their son, who lived in America.

Jackson Kingston was 28 years old, and already married twice. Bone cancer took his first wife, leaving the man on his own with a 3 year old son named Zander.

With a business to run and a 3 year old at home, Jackson was stretched thin, and as a result, he married the first gentle, introverted woman he met. There was no love lost between the two, but as it was, life was livable.

Between Jackson and Colton though, a relationship was virtually non-existent. Having only met when they were younger due to their mothers throwing a joint business party before Colton and his parents went to live abroad, they didn’t have much of a familial bond. The loss of Colton’s parents at such a young age had only worsened his autism, it made him quiet and reserved, he didn’t bother anyone, but he also didn’t help them. Jackson on the other hand was a mature and stable man, and he would never take advantage of anyone, much less an orphan. They lived together, but like two ships sailing at night, they never crossed paths, despite sharing the same house.

All in all, it was a peaceful existence.

That changed with the arrival of Lola Gordon, Jackson’s new wife.

While the packaging was a pure lily white, the inside was black and slimy tar. Before marrying Jackson, she’d been in a relationship with his best friend, Connor Kino. Connor had been Jackson’s friend since college, and when they graduated, Jackson hired the other man on as his personal assistant. He didn’t know that he was letting a snake into his house, and another one into his bed, and that had had consequences for everyone.

Born to poverty, Connor hated the rich and privileged, and he’d always felt that Jackson was more privileged than anyone he’d ever met before. It didn’t take long for his hate for the other man to grow, especially when being a personal assistant meant following his orders, constantly treated like a glorified nanny at best and a lap dog at worse. 

With a sense of self-righteous entitlement, Connor often stole sensitive business information, only to turn around and sell it to competitors at the highest price. Seducing Lola and putting her in Jackson’s path had been his greatest plan yet.

But Jackson Kingston was the protagonist of this world. He wouldn’t be defeated.

Just when it looked like the two snakes would succeed, the female protagonist finally appeared. She not only won Jackson’s heart, but she exposed the two traitors for what they were. In a story about love and betrayal, Colton Wilds was only considered negligible cannon fodder.

He’d been out buying paint one night, and accidentally came face to face with Lola and Connor coming out of one of the cheap love motels. The two, fearing that Colton would talk, came up with a vicious plot to get rid of the teenager.

Lola bribed little Zander’s nanny, Tilda, to abuse and beat the boy, and then just happened to let it slip to Jackson that something wasn’t right. When Jackson saw the scars and bruises, she told him of her suspicions. Putting the blame completely on Colton’s shoulders.

Zander, scared and broken, feared Tilda more than anything else. When she threatened him, he instantly folded, pointing the finger at Colton when his father asked him who had hurt him.

After the repeated abuse, Zander started exhibiting signs of autistic behavior as well - he no longer cried or laughed, and it was only natural for Jackson to blame and despise Colton for it. Not only did Jackson send him away, but he also cut off all ties with the poor orphan.

Lola's sinister plan was twofold. She got rid of the threat to expose her cheating, and she crippled Zander, clearing the way for her own future children to inherit everything.

It was only a few years later, when Tilda retired, that the female protagonist applied for the job of Zander's nanny. It became apparent very quickly that the problem with Zander hadn't been his autism, but the abuse that had exacerbated it. Without much effort, the female protagonist had won over both Zander and Jackson, and exposed Tilda and Connor's plots all in one fell swoop.

Jackson was devastated, but most of all by what he'd done to Colton. He looked everywhere for the innocent boy, only to find out that Colton had lost everything he loved and swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, committing suicide not even a full year after being kicked out of the Kingston household.

Sure, the man was saddened by the tragic fate of an innocent boy, but he'd had the female protagonist there to comfort and reassure him.

Colton Wilds had been nothing more than a bystander in this story. He hadn't suspected Lola and Connor of anything, and even if he had, with his closed off personality, he wouldn't have taken the initiative to speak to Jackson, even under threat. Right up until the last moments of his life, he didn't understand why he'd been expelled from the Kingston house.

The fate of this body was even more pathetic than his last one. This body was nothing but a pawn to further the romance between the two main characters.

After having Al read out the world information, Ed shook his head and sighed, rubbing at his face and testing the range of this body. The real Colton was slim, willowy and weak. With Al’s help, Ed corrected both that, and this body’s mental stability.

As far as Ed knew, Tilda had already  _ worriedly _ reported to Jackson twice about little Zander’s bruises. Both times, Jackson had gone to Colton, intending to talk, but Colton wasn’t the type for confrontation. He hid in his room whenever Jackson came home, and stayed in the studio with the door locked otherwise. Ed knew that Jackson was likely frustrated, but he didn’t care. He needed to figure out how he was going to handle this world.

Colton’s personality couldn’t change, but putting on masks was old hat for Ed now. Years of living other people’s lives made sure of that. He could act meek and cowed, made an even easier task with the selective mutism. But how could he change the world around him if he can’t communicate with it?

If Tilda complains again, it’ll be Jackson’s last straw.

After dying at the hands of the protagonist hundreds of times, Ed had decided to play the passive party. He wouldn’t go after the protagonist, or provoke him unless the protagonist took the initiative and went after him, and as it was, Jackson was almost to that point. The bastard couldn’t see the truth staring at him in the face, and he would ruin an innocent man because of his ignorance.

The fastest way to accomplish what he wanted was simple. Fulfil the Original’s greatest wish and reach their dreams. A complete change.

Ed could do one of two things, he could go up to Jackson and explain the situation, but then again, who would Jackson choose to believe? Tilda who worked as his own nanny since he was young, or some unfamiliar imitation  little brother with a mental disability? The original life’s results were self-evident.

Besides, how was he going to explain a closed-off, introverted, teenager knowing so much?

Ed thought for a long while, biting at the fingernail on his thumb, before deciding to use more tactful and intuitive means to resolve this crisis. With a plan in mind, he put down his paintbrush, covered the canvas with a large white sheet, and went into the attached bathroom to wash off most of the paint.

In the mirror, a pale and thin, but undeniably handsome face stared back at him. He looked slightly feminine, with dark black hair almost to his shoulders, but shiny and soft. His usually sharp golden eyes were softened, a faint look of melancholy and vacancy.

Ed gave his own face a scowl and nearly burst out laughing at how weird it looked on this young, mainly emotionless face. He tried a smile and found a change. He was beautiful when he smiled, apparently, but Ed doubted the real Colton did much of that as of late. With a sigh, he blanked his face and suddenly found what looked most natural.

Satisfied that he’d imitated the original body’s natural temperament, Ed stripped off his clothes and went to shower.

The old Ed, the man he used to be before the Villain System, wasn’t able to hide himself. He was brash and confident, but sullen and determined to do better by his little brother. He’d had a hard lesson to learn when he’d started in the Villain System, but he  _ had _ learned it. Disguising himself, taking on another person’s attitude and personality, their likes and dislikes, their little intricate details hadn’t been easy, but it had become second nature.

Now though, he had more freedom to play around. There was still a guideline, but if Ed was careful, he could allow himself to show through every once in a while, until no one would be able to tell the difference between Ed and Colton. He’d managed it with Edward in the last life, and he would do it again this time.

After his shower, he changed into a pair of clean, simple clothes just as Jackson came home. Tilda sent one of the maids to call him down for dinner.

As the main protagonist, Jackson Kingston was an absolute stunner. Handsome at almost 6’3, with a refined kind of grace to him that made everyone look twice. Even Ed paused for a bit at the sight of the man sitting at the table, trying to coax his emotionally stunted son to eat. At the sound of Ed’s footsteps though, Jackson turned, and Ed came face to face with cold black eyes.

For a single moment, his heart stuttered. He knew those eyes. Dark black, slanted, cold… Roy?

Fuck no, Roy belonged to the other world. To wish for more would only hurt him in the end. Especially seeing as Jackson hated Colton for what he believed the teen had done to his son.

The original Colton, because he was too afraid of confrontation, wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Ed, while not afraid, was undeniably affected by the stare. He looked away, lowering his head and taking his seat.

Lola looked at him for only a moment, before turning to Jackson. “Here. Give me the baby. I’ll feed him, you can eat first.”

No one but Ed noticed the malice in her stare as she took the young boy.


	2. Chapter 2.2:

Zander made a grab for his father’s clothes, but Tilda was too fast, intercepting the little hands and picking the boy up. He instantly stiffened, but didn’t make a sound as he was handed to Lola.

“It’s your favorite, banana and honey mush, very sweet.” Lola whispered softly, her outward attitude calm and patient. If Ed wasn’t fully aware of her true face, he too would have been fooled by this little play.

Jackson and Lola met in an orphanage. She volunteered there every weekend, and she would take care of the kids. Jackson saw how she treated the little kids, her patience and consideration. It was what had sold him on the idea of marrying her. As it was, he relaxed at Lola’s performance, his grim face turning a tad bit warmer.

Ed picked at his rice, his head down and eyes on his plate, looking at nothing else.

Tilda finished cleaning up the kitchen, and with a small laugh, she wiped off her hands and came to the table again. “Madam, I’ll take care of the baby, you look tired today.”

Zander’s little face paled, his eyes going wide. He kept silent though, his fear of Tilda winning out in the end, causing the little man to bite his tongue, his tears silent. Tilda pretended to be concerned, “Oh, what’s the matter? You were in such a good mood a little while ago, why are you crying? The baby’s been refusing to talk these days, refusing to sleep and eat. He’ll unexpectedly start crying, and crying, it's so distressing. Poor thing, what’s going on?”

She’s said it with tears in her own eyes, her baby talk making her seem more pitiful than even Zander himself. It was all so very convincing, if it hadn’t been for the little boy’s reaction. 

Zander was scared, stiff and shrinking in the woman’s arms. It didn’t even look like he was breathing. Ed, with only a few hours in this world, could see the truth, could see Zander’s fear of Tilda, yet Jackson couldn’t. The man was too involved. Tilda had raised the man since he was a child, he loved her like a mother, so he didn’t notice the slightest bit of strangeness in the situation.

At the nanny’s words though, his anger and resentment came back, his cold, sharp eyes pinning Ed to his chair. Zander was the only thing keeping his anger at bay. He reached for the boy, hugging him gently, comforting and coaxing him, singing the same nursery rhymes Tilda used to sing to him as a child. It had the complete opposite effect.

Instead of calming the boy, it panicked him. His whole body convulsed, his eyes squeezing shut and distressed little noises coming from his throat.

Jackson’s heart squeezed, and he immediately took his son back to his room, repeatedly calling the family doctor. Tilda and Lola followed behind him.

Just like that, Ed was the only one in the dining room. He sighed, wiping at his mouth before standing up. He washed his hands and returned to his own room.

The room was simple, at best. The bookcase full of technical painting books, and nearly ever drawer was filled with mostly paints and canvases of all kinds of brands. It was clear where Colton’s passions lay, and Ed was certain he’d be able to accomplish this one at least.

Ed though, was a hacker at heart. He needed a computer. He rummaged around the room for a while until he finally found a netbook under the bed. He instantly opened it up and connected to the web, finally smiling as he settled his fingers on the keys.

The backlight cast delicate shadows over the teenage boy’s feminine face, reflecting a dull blue light on his liquid gold eyes. His fingers moved fast, his focus absolute. If it hadn’t been for the sudden violent knocking at his door, he likely would have been at it all night.

“Colton, we need to talk, come out here!” Jackson shouted through the thin wood, his fist coming down just slightly harder. Ed frowned, but stayed right where he was.

After a short moment with no sound or movement, there was a loud thump of a kick, the older man’s agitation echoing in the growl Ed heard from beyond the door. He was lucky the Kingston family was rich and the door was very well-made or it likely would have caved under the man’s assault. Unless Jackson brought in another two men, that door wasn’t moving.

Ed allowed his body to relax, the tension of being startled falling away. Licking his lips, he picked up a dirty cup of tea from his desk and threw it at the door. That should get the message across, Ed wasn’t in the mood for Jackson and his bullshit.

The former Colton was afraid to talk to Jackson, but Ed simply didn’t want to. Jackson had long ago sentenced Colton to death in his heart, even if Colton wanted to explain, the older man probably wouldn’t want to listen.

Jack heard the crash and saw the tea spreading out on the carpet under the door. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one agitated.

Gritting his teeth, he thought about his parents’ request to keep from over stressing Colton. Running a strong hand through his short dirty blond hair, he pulled at his tie and moved away from the door. His son had bruises and scars, he’d sent the photographs to his parents on the other side of the ocean but they didn’t believe him. They kept saying that Colt wouldn’t hurt a fly.

That smashed cup spoke otherwise though. Would someone who threw tableware like that really not hurt a fly? Jackson didn’t think so. If Colton wasn’t the one abusing Zander, then who was? Lola? Was it Tilda? One was a gentle, kind-hearted wife, the other was like a mother to him. There was no way he could doubt either of them. Not to mention, his son had said it was his ‘small uncle’ who hit him. Zander was so small and innocent; how could he lie?

Hearing the footsteps walking away, Ed pressed down on the Enter Key, sending a small program to Jackson’s computer. It was his first move in this game.

Now, the ball would be in Kingston’s court.

\--

Jack sat at his son’s bedside, watching the boy. They’d had to give the small boy a sedative, but he appeared to be panicking in his sleep. Jack’s heart twist. The doctor’s words echoing in his mind endlessly:  _ ‘Mr. Kingston, as things stand, it looks as if your son’s abuse has left heavy psychological scars. You need to find him a psychiatrist as soon as possible and keep him away from the source of his terror.’ _

Away from the source of terror?

Jack mused on that for a moment, making his careful way to his study. Lola stood in the hallway lamplight. When she saw him approaching, she frowned and whispered, “I’m sorry, Jackson. I didn’t take care of the baby. Do you want me to stop volunteering at the orphanage? Tilda is guarding the baby, but she has other responsibilities. I’ve also taken the liberty of contacting a psychologist. Dr. Sun Tracy. His research on the psychological problems of children is second to none. This is his business car, you keep it. Every Wednesday, I can take the baby to see the doctor.”

Jack sighed deep, closing his head against the headache throbbing behind his eyes. “No. You don’t have to resign, you only work on weekends anyways, it doesn’t really matter. Besides, guarding isn’t going to help in the long run, it’ll only test the criminal’s patience. I told my parents to send for Colton as soon as possible. I had intended to contact Dr. Sun Tracy myself, but it looks like you were a step ahead of me. Dr. Tracy is good and he’s currently staying in the country. I’m the one who’s sorry, Lola. All of this has… well, it’s been hard on you.” Jack took the business card and bent his head in a small bow.

Lola saw the exhaustion on Jackson’s expression. He was tired, it was clear. She opened her mouth to speak, but paused. Right now, Colton and Jackson’s relationship was strained and weak, but if they ever managed to grow closer, Colton might speak about what he knew. For now, her plan was working perfectly, not only was Zander turning into more of an idiot, but she’d managed to isolate Colton.

She smiled instead, opening the door of the study for her husband.

Jack nodded, walking in and closing the door behind himself. He moved to the window, pulling it open as he pulled out a cigarette. With a practiced move of his finger on his lighter, he lit and blew. He was anxious, but he needed to do something. As he lit the lamp, he dialed his parents.

**_“The number you dialed is not in service…”_ **

**_“The number you dialed is not in service…”_ **

**_“The number you dialed is…”_ **

He failed three times before irritation had him chucking the phone at his desk. The projectile accidentally hit the mouse and the computer came alive. An ad box jumped out, the bright orange font catching his eye instantly.

He was ready to turn it off, but he paused as soon as he read the first few words.

**_“Are you still worried about theft? Are you still worried about the lazy nanny? Are you still angry about your nanny’s child abuse? Pinhole camera, solve all your worries at once! Home installation, convenient and practical…”_ **

He ignored the rest, he’d seen enough. His eyes flashed and he finally smiled. Well, more like smirked.

Since his parents didn’t want to believe him, he’d just have to show them. Under the irrefutable proof, he could throw Colton Wilds out on his ass, make him pay for what he’s done.

He grabbed at his phone and dialed Niko.

Niko Taylor lived in the west wing of the house, once a mercenary, he now served as Jackson’s driver and bodyguard, but he was also responsible for many jobs of the Kingston company that shouldn’t see the light of day. The greatest thing about the dangerous man, was that he didn’t ask questions. He just got shit done. Even if it involved bugging his boss’s house.

The next day, Jackson went to work and Niko pretended to clean the air conditioning in every room, installing the pinhole cameras as he went. Even the bathrooms weren’t excluded. Lastly, a rice-grain sized microphone was placed in Zander’s locket. The only thing Jackson had kept from Zander’s mother.

Since it was summer vacation, Ed didn’t have classes, so after eating breakfast, he locked himself in his studio. Since he’d taken Colton’s place, he was going to accomplish all of Colton Wilde’s dreams. And there was no doubt that Colton’s dream was to become a great painter.

_ “Brother. There are cameras all over the place.” _

Al’s voice echoed in Ed’s head, and his sour mood brightened fast. So, Jackson had taken the initiative. Good. Ed wouldn’t need to do much else. Jackson would see the truth for himself soon.

With a gentle hand, he pulled at the cloth covering up the canvas he’d been working on the day before.

It was a completed pastoral landscape painting. It was of the Kingston estate, the bright sunshine highlighting a single rose among the rose garden, the large sections of warm colors inflicting a happy feeling when anyone looked at it.

If Ed were enclined to be honest about it he’d admit that Colton had a way of painting that lacked soul. It brought up the right emotions, but it didn’t capture them. It touched upon them and when you looked away and they would be gone. It was missing something deeper, something that would make it hard for the viewer to look away at all, and even harder still for anyone to forget what they felt the moment they saw the painting. Something that would strike at the heart and move the soul.

Colton’s paintings were delicate, very beautiful, and gave a subtle visual enjoyment, but it didn’t shake the soul.

Ed had been reincarnated through multiple generations. Although he’d played the villain in every life, it was important for the villain to be strong so the protagonist had something to fight against. In every world, every life, he didn’t just accomplish the tasks and left, he’d learned. Like the genius he was, he picked up a variety of skills and talents. He’d been every kind of person at some point – the general, the emperor, the immortal, the knight, the Duke, the pope, the magician, the king – and while all of these experiences were plagued by endless pain, but they also gave him priceless wealth.

Painting wouldn’t be a problem for him. Whether it was Chinese, Japanese, archaic, oil painting, water painting, or sketching, as long as he had a brush or a pencil, he could create worlds.

This body’s dream would be easy to accomplish with his talents. His skills were unmatched in any world and this one was no exception. No one here would compare.

He slowly went through Colton’s works, trying to figure out the original’s level of skill and style. The room was quiet, the only sound the breeze blowing through the leaves.

It was right then that a little figure came into the room. He stood in the doorway, fascinated and enraptured by the beautiful scenery on the canvas. With quiet little steps, he carefully made his way behind Ed.

Ed, having been focused on his current task, was slightly startled when he turned to grab a brush and his palette and met Zander Kingston’s eye.

Awkwardly, both stood there, staring at each other, apparently both shocked by the attention of the other. They shared the same ‘Well…what now?’ look.

After a long while, Ed slowly, very slowly, reached out his hand and picked up the palette from the bench beside Zander.

The boy was about to retreat, but as soon as he saw that the older boy’s goal wasn’t to touch him, he stopped. With big, wet eyes, he looked up.

Ed ignored him. They were both skittish creatures, and silence was for the best now. Instead, he focused on diluting the pigments, seemingly carelessly smearing it on the canvas.

Uncle and nephew stood close together, seriously focusing on the painting before them. Two exquisite faces with the same emotionless expression, it was a very funny looking scene, but there was something heartwarming about it. One big, one small, but so intimately similar, if anyone had been watching, they would have been surprised at the loveliness.


	3. Chapter 2.3:

Compared to Ed’s calm, slumped shoulders, Zander was stiff and rigid, his short legs bent at the knees slightly, ready to escape. But Ed was careful to avoid him, just picking up the palette and brush at his side, then turning to paint. Nothing more, nothing less. Zander was quietly relieved.

He stepped up to Ed’s side, turning up his small head and looking at the canvas with shiny eyes.

Ed had completely lost sight of the little thing at his feet. As a result of taking this body, he’d also inherited Colton’s fanatical love of painting, and it affected him now, his brush moving constantly.

Colton was good at modern direct painting, which involved drawing the outline directly on the canvas and then slowly coloring it in, but Ed was good at the more ancient forms of transparent painting, which meant painting in layers of pigments that weren’t white, and then diluting it with a palette of oil. Painting the next layer after the previous one had dried. This style required the artist to have a complete picture in his mind before he even started, and if Ed was good at anything, it was working with his mind.

Because each layer of color had to be thinner, so the lower layer could be faintly revealed with the upper layer of colors blending into subtle shades. It was a method of painting that pushed the artist to strive for more sophisticated skills, and a more accurate grasp of color harmony and spatial judgment.

Colton’s paintings used a large array of warm colors, and since it was already dry, Ed would be able to start with an entirely different color pallet. He used blues, and purples, and greens, cooling the warm colors gradually. He used a resin varnish to glaze the canvas, giving it layers of overlapping gray while be blended one affect I to another. 

After half an hour, the original spring flowers blooming in the garden had become a shower of stars in the forest. The twinkling stars giving out a weak light. It seemed as though all you had to do to touch the stars, was reach out your hand and pluck them up with the tip of your fingers. It did not look like a picture, it looked like a portal to another world, so beautiful, so real and yet so illusory.

Ed backed up a bit, taking in his practice run, when a slight sound of wonder invaded his space. Pulling his mind away from the painting, he looked down at the little guy still at his feet.

Day to night, sunshine to starlight, garden to forest, even if Zander was still too small to know what aesthetic was, he was still overwhelmed by his small uncle’s awe-inspiring painting techniques.

When he noticed that he’d disturbed Colton, Zander quickly covered his mouth with little chubby hands, big eyes full of panic.

Ed only looked at him for a second, before turning back. He continued his work, making small adjustments and backing up to take it in, before going in to change something else.

Zander was relieved, it seemed that his uncle didn’t really want him to leave, so he allowed his courageousness to grow a bit. His small hands explored the tools and brushes, reaching out and retracting, reaching out and pulling in, again and again. After struggling with it for a long time, he finally took a brush in his hand.

There was a piece of white cloth on the ground, the cloth that had been covering the painting, though he didn’t know that, with a drum for cleaning brushes next to it. Zander moved quickly, dipping the brush into a little poppy oil and then squatting on the ground to begin smearing the paint on the white cloth. He tried to draw a few stars, but found that the painting didn’t shine like his uncle’s, so he tried to paint the sun instead.

It was the first bubble of happiness he’d felt in a long time, and it kept him from noticing that Ed had done the final modification and was instead, bent over him, staring at his efforts.

“No, you can’t play with this.” The voice was soft, a light trickle of water, but the strength that took the brush away from him wasn’t weak in the slightest.

Zander was alarmed, his rosy little face paling instantly, like a small bird he began to shrink into his knees, curling up in a ball right there.

Ed didn’t comfort him, he put the paintbrush and oil drum on the windowsill, where the little guy couldn’t reach, before walking out of the studio.

Zander covered his little face and started crying silently, still curled up next to the large, wet cloth. He looked so small and vulnerable. But not long after, the bigger boy came back into the room, holding a box of watercolor pens and a stack of white paper. He bent over to the little guy and said, “You use this to paint. Paint and poppy oil contain toxins, small baby can’t touch, will get sick.”

The pattern of speech was taken straight from Colton’s memories, but Ed resigned himself to it. Seeing the little guy still in tears, refusing to look up at him, Ed didn’t comfort him. He placed the water pens and white paper on the ground, then turned to continue painting. He himself had slight emotional problems and being in this body really wasn’t helping with any of them, the fact that he’d done and said so much was a miracle at that point.

Zander’s crying stopped. He peeked out from behind one small hand and struggled for breath. His uncle didn’t despise him?

Slightly soothed by the silence and the lack of attention, the small boy rubbed his eyes hard and quietly looked up. He was ready to reach out for the watercolor pens but he suddenly stopped when Ed looked over at him. He jumped and shrunk right back into himself, like a small turtle.

Ed was amused, but because of the cameras, he had to be stoic and patient. He took a few deep breaths, keeping the serious expression and removing a white shirt hanging on the easel, before turning and helping the little guy get into it. He whispered low, “Here, be good and put it on. So your clothes don’t get dirty.”

Zander stopped struggling and let Colton put on the large shirt. The sleeves covered a pair of young tender little hands, the hem dragging along the ground. The boy looked sweet, and Ed had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling. Instead, he reached out and folded the sleeves a couple times, until they reached the boy’s tiny fingertips.

For some reason, the small, quiet boy with dirty blond hair and dark brown eyes brought a picture of a much younger Alphonse to Ed’s mind. His sweet, innocent little brother… god he missed Al. 

Pushing down his emotions, Ed helped the kid arrange the long tail shirt, before patting softly at his stiff head and then turning to continue his own painting.

Zander touched his own forehead, feeling the dissipating warmth of a kind touch. His heart throbbed, a sweet little trickle of warmth filling his chest. He didn’t laugh, but his eyes were bright in a way they hadn’t been in a long time, he picked up the pens and began to doodle, just like his Uncle Colton’s paintings.

A dropped needle could have been heard in the quiet studio. Uncle and nephew painted, side by side, their figures moving in harmony, in a picture touching enough to warm the heart.

Time passed them by unknowingly. Until, around four or five in the afternoon, Tilda finally arrived home, carrying multiple bags of groceries.

There was another maid who took care of the estate, and she could handle all of the cleaning. Tilda was getting older and more impatient with children. Every day, after Jackson left, she excused herself to buy groceries, but instead, she’d go to a nearby park and play cards with some of the other maids.

Before, she’d avoid being lazy in front of Lola, but since they started working together, she acted more and more natural. Lola was also far more devious than Jackson thought, and when she wasn’t at home being a stepmother, she lost all her restraints. She was constantly in and out of the house, going out shopping, or gambling, or at the beauty salon. Anything she could spend Jackson’s money on.

As long as both she and Tilda came home before six in the afternoon, they would be able to keep up their little pretense.

Due to the fact that it was Sunday, she’d had the excuse of going to the orphanage to help, so she could come back even later.

Tilda asked the maid if Lola had come home yet, then went up the stairs to find Zander.

In the studio, Zander heard Tilda’s call and like flipping a switch, his happy feelings were gone. His face paled in fear, his shaking too hard to stop.

Ed patted his head lightly to calm him, helping him remove the big shirt and wash his hands.

The original Colton had, at first, found things suspicious. He’d heard Zander’s piercing cries one day and had run to his room to see what happened, but Tilda had appeased him, saying that the pain of a decaying tooth had the little boy crying. While Colton still had doubts, he’d been cowed by Tilda, until finally, with a flushed face, he’d pushed out a ‘yes, okay’, and then retreated under Tilda’s stare.

When he left, Tilda had closed the door and continued to beat Zander. Colton’s presence hadn’t even registered in her mind. 

Now, Ed was the one who didn’t even spare a thought for Tilda. He gently held the little boy, patiently patting his back. When Tilda came to the door to find the child, Ed not only kept him in the studio, but he also slammed the door shut in her face, almost causing the old nanny a broken nose.

“Fuck! You little hybrid bastards! What are you doing?! Sooner or later I’ll laugh at your back when Jackson puts you out on your ass!” Tilda raged at the door.

Ed paid the abuse outside the door no mind, rubbing the little guy’s back gently before letting him go and turning to continue painting.

Zander, couldn’t bring himself to relax.

Only Colton had seen his fear and despair. Only Colton hadn’t handed him to Tilda. Only Colton had so firmly protected him.

Although it was just the closing of a door, it had actually separated him from all the dangers. Zander was only three years old, but he had enough self-awareness to realize that this moment had produced an undeniable attachment to Ed. But he was also vaguely aware that saying those words in front of his father would produce a very negative result.

While he was happy, he was also a little sad, carefully holding onto his uncle’s thigh.

Gently, Ed tried to shake him off.

Zander, determinedly unafraid of his uncle, held on tight.

Ed couldn’t get rid of his new tail, and had no choice but to let the little creature stick to him. If he went left, the little guy also staggered to the left, if he went to the right, he also stumbled to the right. Like Velcro, or a duckling hanging into its mother – the picture was very funny.

Uncle and nephew were happy, Tilda was also happy not to have to work, and the maids hurriedly cooked dinner. Everything was calm until around 5:30, when the sound of the car engine alerted them all to the unexpectedly early arrival of Jackson Kingston.

Tilda, anxious and in a panic, quickly ran to the studio door and pounded on it. “Colton! Quickly send out the baby! Mr. Kingston is back, if you let him see you together, he  _ will  _ kick you out!”

As Jackson’s attitude grew colder and colder, the original Colton didn’t dare get too close to Zander. Ed, although he knew the truth, didn’t intend to be the one to expose Tilda’s cruel nature. With a soft touch to the boy’s head, he opened the door and gently pushed a panicking Zander out.

When Colton rubbed his head, Zander’s fear faded a bit. He understood that as long as his father was home, Tilda wouldn’t hit him, so he reluctantly accepted the inevitable.

Tilda impatiently dragged the child to her side, not caring if he couldn’t keep up, she half dragged and half pulled him down the stairs, all the while whispering, “You’re not allowed to follow that hybrid bastard around anymore, otherwise, I’ll peel off your skin!”

“Uncle is not a bastard.” Zander, who hardly spoke, suddenly voiced his thoughts, loud and clear.

Tilda was stunned for a few seconds, then her fat face darkened. She reached out to pull hard on Zander’s ear, but the boy instinctively shrunk into himself, shoulders coming up to protect himself. Fortunately, Jackson was anxious to see his son, and was hastily running up the stairs for them.

Tilda pulled her hand away, before drawing the child into her arms. Smiling kindly, she hissed between clenched teeth, “Not only is Colton a bastard, but you are one too. If you don’t obey me, I’ll throw you into the river to drown. Your dad has a new wife now, and he’ll have more children soon. He’ll quickly forget all about you.”

Zander, frightened, desperately closed his eyes, large tears silently making tracks down his heated cheeks.


	4. Chapter 2.4:

When Jack left, he didn’t go to work. Instead, he was hiding in the nearest underground parking lot, headphones on over his ears to monitor his home. Niko had stayed in the house to keep watch of the video monitor, and once Colton acted against Zander, he would immediately rush to the rescue, while also sending the video to Jack’s mother on the other side of the ocean. 

In truth, Jack was nervous. His son’s fearful expression was engraved in his mind, and he was afraid the the boy would suffer the slightest injury now that Jack could finally see. He concentrated intensely on the headset, every slight little sound making him want to immediately step on the gas and get home. 

The microphone was in his son’s hollow pendant, and the quality was one of the best. The sound was clear and even, and he heard it perfectly when Tilda told his son not to make any noise, the tone strangely severe. There wasn’t a sound, and the silence nearly made Jack panic. 

Jack went from tense to numb, holding the steering wheel, listening close, holding the same position until nearly one or two pm. 

He almost turned to stone when a clear voice came through his headset,  _ “No, you can’t play with this.”  _

It was Colton’s uniquely flat tone and Jack instantly sat straighter, ears straining, breath held, as he carefully tried to distinguish any hidden emotions in the words. There wasn’t even the slightest trace of maliciousness though, and even if his head recognized that, he still had his hand on the button to start the car, the engine roaring to life under the hood. 

Not even waiting for the engine to fully start, the clear voice sounded again, the same flat tone, but the words surprisingly overflowing with care. 

_ “You use this to paint. Paint and poppy old contains toxins, small baby can’t touch, will get sick.” _

So he’d stopped Zander from playing with oil paint. That was blameless. It was the right thing to do. 

Jack let out a breath, his hand pressing the start button again to shut the engine off. He wiped at his forehead and tried to calm himself down. There was a long silence, before Colton spoke again. By then, Jack had at least learned to keep himself from jumping at shadows. 

_ “Here, be good and put it on. So your clothes don’t dirty.” _

The teenager was putting a smock on his son, so the paint wouldn’t stain his clothes. That was also blameless. 

Jack’s brows creased in confusion. He couldn’t understand why this caring young boy, and Tilda’s recollection of an angry manic that attacks people, weren’t the same person. 

Suddenly, he had a feeling that something was off. That or, the teenager was just a very good actor. But even if he was acting, why wouldn’t his son, the victim, know to stay away from him? He’d heard the little footsteps, clearly it had been his son who’d ran into the studio on his own. 

Jack pulled off the headphones, pushing his hair back off his face, and finally decided to go home. 

When the car arrived at the estate, Niko came out to greet him, whispering low, “Boss, you’d better look at the monitors yourself. Maybe we were all wrong.” 

Jack nodded, leaving the big man behind as he walked up the stairs, reaching for his son, only to see the little boy looking fearful, big eyes filled with tears. In the audio, the little boy hadn’t said anything, just calmly painted with his uncle, Jack was even inclined to call it ‘happy’, so what could have happened between then and now to cause this complete 180? 

He went to grab the boy from Tilda, but was surprised when he was met with resistance and resentment. The small arms waved at him, squirming out of his hands, a glare on the delicate face. Jack’s heart clenched. 

He needed to find out what was going on. All of it. 

“Tilda, please take Zander out to the garden. There are some baby ducks there, I’m sure he’d be happy to play with. I’ll come out after I change.” He handed his son back to Tilda before making his way straight to the study. 

He moved fast, rousing the computer and bringing up the files on the day’s recordings. The pinhole camera they’d put on Zander would follow his every move, capture anything the little boy looked at. 

Jack watched as Tilda went out early to buy the groceries, while Zander was left alone, sitting on the carpet in his playroom, playing quietly with his toys, like an empty shell with no soul, no emotion.

The little boy sat there until noon when a maid brought in lunch. Jack was surprised to see that the maid just set the plate down and immediately left, she hadn’t even tried to coax him to eat. 

Zander didn’t need it though. He carefully took one of the cookies, slowly eating it before sipping at the milk. After that, he pushed himself up and walked out of the room, small feet making soft pattering noises on the hardwood floors, and shuffling on the carpets. He was headed straight for the studio. 

Jack frowned in confusion, his forehead creasing as he watched. If it was true that Colton was the one to abuse Zander all these times, why would his son take the initiative to go find him?

He held back his own disbelief, deciding that he’d been mistaken. Everything he’d been told was wrong. With that thought in mind, he continued watching. 

Zander walked to the door, looking in and then moving to hide behind the door. He did this several times, before realizing that Colton was completely immersed in his painting. Quietly, he pushed the door open a bit more and slid inside. That’s when Colton turned to take hold of a brush, and one tall, one short, two awkward people suddenly met eyes, connecting. 

As they stared at each other, Jack held his breath, his hands unconsciously clenching on the desk. He was waiting for Colton to turn angry, for something to shift on that elegantly emotionless face. 

It didn’t. 

Instead, Colton very carefully avoided his son, finally picking up the brush and going back to his painting. His son’s obvious fright suddenly calmed, his cute face twisted in a marveled expression. Like he thought it was amazing just to be allowed into the room. 

The relief on the little boy’s face nearly drove Jack to tears. 

From there, it went just as the audio had. Colton stopping Zander from playing with harmful paint, gently helping him into a makeshift smock, and then affectionately patting at his hair. The second Colton moved away, Jack saw his son touch his forehead, big eyes looking so nostalgic… sad, but warm. 

Who would form a sentimental attachment with the person who beat them? Fuck… he’d been wrong. Jack’s nerves were on edge, but he pushed that down too, looking on as the video continued. 

One big figure and one small one stood side by side, in front of them both were two canvases. The young man’s canvas was a blooming starlight, his son’s was a large mess of blackness, Jack really wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be, but it was clear that the boy was happy with it, going as far as to pull on his uncle’s sleeve to bring the older boy’s attention down to his masterpiece. 

Colton didn’t speak, only rubbed at the little boy’s head gently as a show of praise. 

There was something new on Zander’s face. Something Jack hadn’t seen in a very long time. A light, bright flare of happiness. 

Unconsciously, Jack smiled, his own usually sharp eyes softened with tenderness. He silently stared at the screen, feeling at peace and content as he watched the two misunderstood boys finally understand each other. 

The peaceful air didn’t last very long though. Soon, Tilda’s shouting broke into the warm, perfect picture. That’s when Jack saw it. His son starting to tremble, his healthy, happy face paling, the familiar expression of horror taking away every ounce of warmth that had been there only moments before. 

Tilda appeared at the door, shouting and pushing for Colton to let Zander out, but Colton was faster. He moved forward and slammed the door shut in her face. Instantly, Zander’s face changed again. He stopped shaking, his sweet little face filling with worship and attachment, as if Colton was his hero. 

Jack’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach. 

There it was, the proof he needed, only it turned out to be proof against the wrong person. 

He’d been deceived and he’d nearly fallen right into it. 

Quickly, he fast forwarded the video and saw Tilda banging manically at the door, and after the door was opened, she dragged his son out, her furious expression so alien and… malicious. 

Jack pressed ‘play’ and put his head into his hands, the headphones in his ears feeding him Tilda’s cruel, hateful words.  _ ‘You’re not allowed to follow that hybrid bastard around anymore, otherwise, I’ll peel off your skin! Not only is Colton a bastard, but you are one too. If you don’t obey me, I’ll throw you into the river to drown. Your dad has a new wife now, and he’ll have more children soon. He’ll quickly forget all about you.’  _

Rage roared loud in Jack’s ears, his head pounding with it, his heart squeezing tight in his chest at the betrayal, at the sheer audacity. If he couldn’t see the truth after this, he didn’t deserve to be a father.

Suddenly, Jack thought about how he’d handed his son to Tilda. He stood up so fast, his chair tipped backwards falling with a loud crash as he rushed to the door of the office, and then down the stairs.

While Jackson had his little revelation, Ed sat quietly in his room, back against the bed’s headboard. He’d had Al invade Jackson’s monitoring system since it was first installed. Niko had worked carefully in an attempt to prevent people from accidentally finding the little cameras and monitoring devices. Hell, even Jackson’s study and bedroom were bugged.

Ed pulled up a view of the study, stirring his sugary black coffee while he watched Jackson’s face quickly flip through several emotions before paling considerably.

After watching for long enough, he took a sip of his coffee and stood up. Going to his studio, he looked out at the back lawn. Zander was watching the ducks, but his arm was firmly in Tilda’s grip, so the little boy didn’t even dare to move, his body trembling visibly, his distress so obvious that even Ed was affected.

If Colton’s body had Ed’s real personality, he would have dashed out into that lawn and torn Tilda limb from limb for what she was putting that little boy through, but he wasn’t Ed. He was Colton, and Colton’s hands could only be used to paint, they couldn’t be stained with blood.

More’s the pity…

He looked down and sighed, listening to Jackson’s rapid footsteps and turning to exit the studio.

In the hallway, Jackson and Colton met.

Ed saw it instantly, first there was surprise, then there was guilt and embarrassment, but the man’s son was still with Tilda. He didn’t have time for anything else. Ed gave the other man a small nod, which the man returned before continuing down the hall and hurrying out into the back lawn.

Jack saw Niko close by, watching Tilda and his son, and he breathed a little easier for the first time.

Zander’s head was down, shrinking into his shoulders, stiffly standing by Tilda’s side. Tilda’s other hand was cradling a yellow duckling, trying to use it to caress the little boy’s cheek, whose eyes were wide open in fear. It was like Tilda wasn’t holding a lovely animal, but a gun instead.

He was frightened, and had lost the courage to resist. The people who were supposed to love him had turned a blind eye to his pain and suffering, only to hand him over to his tormentor again and again.

Jack wanted to cry. No wonder his son kept so quiet; no wonder he held such a grudge against his own father; no wonder the only thing Colton had to do to gain the boy’s trust, attachment, and worship was close the goddamn door.

For the first time since the death of his late wife, Jack felt the tears escape, trailing down his cheek in a line of warm pain.

Still, he wasn’t known as the ‘Cunning Fox’ for nothing. He was the leader of the Kingston family, a commercial overlord in the industry. By the time he reached his son, he’d steadied himself, smiling at the little boy as he took the child into his arms and brought him inside, softly whispering, “Look at you, all dirty from playing with the ducklings. Let Papa help you take a bath.”

He turned sharply to Tilda, his eyes hard when they landed on her. “Tilda. Go make some food for the baby, something sweet and creamy.”

Something like fear passed through the old woman’s eyes, but she nodded, putting down the ducking and going back into the house, headed straight for the kitchen.

Jack carried his son into the bedroom. His son, that no longer laughed, or cried, or smiled.

Closing the door behind them, he placed the boy on the bed and squatted down in front of his son, his face twisted with sadness and guilt.

“Baby boy, I’m sorry. Papa is so sorry.” He pressed kisses into the boy’s forehead, softly apologizing for his stupidity, for his blindness, for his obliviousness, but he could no longer see a trace of affection in his son’s eyes.

Zander was so disappointed with his father, that he’d become completely numb.


	5. Chapter 2.5:

Despite the soft, sweet words of regret whispered into his skin, Zander could not hear any of it. He just sat quietly, staring at his father with dark, emotionless eyes.

Jack held him tightly, kissing his forehead, his hair, his pale cheeks. He took a few minutes to calm himself before he asked, “Baby boy, tell your Papa who hurt you. Was it Tilda?”

Zander started trembling, but the boy didn’t speak.

Jack was quick to try to calm him, patting his back and asking several times, but he got nothing out of the boy. Slowly, he tried something else, “Baby boy, don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.” He paused, struggling with his guilt before continuing, “If you tell me, Papa can help you punish the bad guys. But if you are too scared to talk, Papa can only make Uncle Colton go away…”

“Don’t!”

Zander, who hadn’t spoken a word for ten consecutive days, suddenly shouted in panic, small voice cracking and breaking Jack’s heart completely.

Swallowing his emotions, he forced himself to ask, “Don’t what, baby boy? Don’t throw Uncle Colton out? If you want him to stay, you have to tell Papa who has been hurting you. If you don’t tell Papa, how can I protect you? You’re Papa’s precious baby boy, Papa’s only baby boy. Papa cares about you, Papa loves you. Don’t you know that?”

He lowered his tone, speaking slow and easy, a cadence to sooth and calm. He tried everything he’d read in books to lower his son’s defenses.

Zander seemed to struggle for a long moment, before he whispered, “Don’t make Uncle Colton go away. It was Tilda who hit me, not Uncle Colton.” Finally, he looked up at his father, his big eyes filled with tears and fear.

Jack’s relief allowed his own tears to fall. Cradling Zander safely in his arms, he kissed the small dark blond head again and again. His embrace careful and cautious, like he was holding on to a long-lost treasure.

If the cameras hadn’t been installed, he would probably have been kept in the dark until it was too late. How could he have guessed that the real culprit would be Tilda, who had practically raised him? If he’d driven Colton away, his son would have spiraled ever further into his own mind, his autistic symptoms exacerbated by abuse and a lack of understand. All of Jackson’s disgust, hatred, and anger, all of it, he’d directed at an innocent boy. Tilda was probably laughing at his stupidity behind his back. 

Just the thought had shame coloring Jack’s cheeks, his eyes downcast, his face nearly buried in his son’s hair. 

Ed watched the man from Al’s holo-screen, bowing his own head so the cameras in his room wouldn’t catch his smile. With a small huff of amusement, he stood up and stretched, slowly stripping off his clothes as he made his way to the bathroom for a shower. 

Standing under the warm spray of water, he couldn’t exactly relax. 

Niko had been very thorough when he installed the cameras, and there were about three in Ed’s bathroom alone, not even counting those in his room. 

A bit of wry amusement lifted the corner’s of Ed’s lips, but he continued his shower like there was nothing wrong. Jackson was a straight male, Ed doubted the man made a hobby of peeping at other men, and even if Jackson saw him, what was the harm? 

After countless lifetimes playing the villain, all of Ed’s shame and a lot of his personal integrity had been eaten away hundreds of years ago. 

As that thought came into his mind, Ed couldn’t help the well of sadness that bubbled in his chest. He remembered a man, hungry jet black eyes that watched him like he was the most beautiful thing to ever live. 

He had thought that he’d gotten over Roy Mustang, but it seemed ‘love’ wasn’t something someone just got over. 

Ducking his head under the spray of water, Ed closed his eyes tight. 

Phantom hands, big and strong, ghosted softly over his shoulders, down his back, over his ass, only to rest, light as air on his hips. Yet, no body was pressed to his back following the touch. 

“Roy…” Ed whispered, the name carrying his hurt, his pain, his heartbreak. 

Not even Ed could tell if the water running down his face was from the shower, or his tears. 

\--

Jack had finally gotten the truth out of his son before giving the little boy a bath and then helping him into his sleeping clothes, all the while repeatedly assuring the little boy that Tilda would be gone when he woke up the next morning. 

Zander, while overjoyed by not only the attention, but the promise his father made him, couldn’t bring himself to really smile. Repeated abuse had crippled him, he wasn’t even sure if he knew how to laugh anymore, but there was a slight curve to his mouth that nearly broke Jack’s heart. 

Jack was a very smart man though. Known in the business world as the ‘Cunning Fox’, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that his son’s abuse had a hidden meaning. Tilda had worked for the Kingston family nearly her whole life, she’d been the one to practically raise him, so why had she suddenly changed so completely? Tilda wasn’t doing it out of pleasure, or malice, if that were so, this side of her personality would have been revealed way before now. So what was her motivation? 

As a business tycoon, Jack believed that profit and money were the source of most of the world’s evil. Tilda abused his son because she could benefit from it. But who would profit from his son’s abuse and having Colton gone? 

Jack could think of a person, but if his thoughts were correct, then things might be more complicated than he’d first thought. 

Jack stayed with Zander in his room for a long time, finally getting back a little bit of warmth and harmony that had been missing between them for so long. It was around that time that Lola came into the bedroom, carrying a large bag. With a wry tone she called, “Jackson, Tilda has dinner ready downstairs. I’ll go change first, you don’t have to wait for me.” 

Jackson only nodded before taking his son and going down into the dining room. In the corner, on the last chair by the wall, Colton sat, head bowed, hair wet, silent and still. Something tender warmed Jackson’s chest, and softly, he spoke, “Why didn’t you dry your hair before coming to eat, Colt? You’ll catch a cold like that.” 

_ ‘Isn’t it a bit too late to be so concerned about me?’ _ Ed thought snidely. Outwardly though, he darkened his cheeks in an embarrassed blush and ducked his head. Pretending to be frightened. 

Jack sighed helplessly, but he didn’t scold the boy again, afraid that it would make the young man retreat even further. In the past, Jack had thought that Colton’s avoidance and fear had been the product of a guilty conscience, but now he knew that it was only due to shyness and an inability to actually communicate properly. Colton’s childhood tragedy had made the young man retreat into himself, closing himself off to everything that wasn’t art… just like Zander. 

With that thought, Jack’s heart softened. He vowed to himself that he’d take better care of the young man in the future, he wouldn’t let anything ever hurt Colton again. 

Tilda was visibly surprised by Jackson’s sudden change of attitude, almost dropping the plate in her hands. She looked quickly to the stairs where Lola stood, watching the small interaction wearily. The two women shared a brief look before Lola made her presence known. 

The tension in the dining room was almost palpable. Zander nestled safely in his father’s arms where he remained for the entire dinner, shining eyes glancing towards his uncle every once in a while. Every time Zander looked to Colton, he seemed to relax more, a brighter mood nearly making the boy smile. 

Ed for his part, ate slowly, head down, focused on nothing but his food. Once he was done, he stood and headed straight for his room, avoiding even looking at anyone else. 

“Are you full, baby boy?” Jack wiped at the small boy’s face, smiling tenderly. “Come on, lets go to the study to read.” 

Zander’s little head bobbed in a nod, his happiness shining in his eyes even if it didn’t show on his face. It was clear by the way he was staring at his father in wonder, that he’d been afraid his father would hand him back to Tilda. 

Jackson kissed his son on the head before carrying him back up the stairs, bringing the boy into the study with him. 

Zander had always been a well-behaved boy, quiet and content to play with a few toys for several hours. Knowing this, Jack grabbed a set of building blocks and spread them out on his huge desk, setting the little boy on his lap and letting him play as Jack watched the computer monitor. 

In the room across the corridor, Ed was lying on his stomach in bed wearing an oversized white sleep shirt that only went down to about mid thigh. His long, pale white legs were waving rhythmically behind him, his attention leisurely captured by the bracelet on his wrist. 

Ed had Al pull up the camera feeds, and while he usually loved to watch Jackson having revelations, he was focused in the dining room this time. After all, Lola and Tilda were bound to provide some form of entertainment after what they’d just witnessed. 

He hadn’t been wrong. 

After making sure Jackson was out of ear shot, Lola put down her fork, “Tilda, what did you do today?” 

“I was out playing cards with my friends and I forgot the time. Tomorrow, I’ll do it for you tomorrow.” Tilda whispered. 

“Get it done faster, Tilda. Every time I see that bastard boy here I feel uncomfortable. Be ruthless with the child, make the little brat into more of an idiot than he already is. You have Colton to blame it on, what are you afraid of?” Lola chuckled lightly, her own words amusing her. 

Tilda nodded, her face a mix of worry and resignation. “Yes, I know. The money we agreed on…”

“As soon as Colton Wilds is out of my life, you’ll get your money. If the little brat becomes a retard, I’ll give you $500,000.” Lola promised, a sharp edged smile on her painted lips. 

Tilda merely nodded rapidly, a smile blooming on her aged face like weeds. 

Both women were completely unaware of the small pinhole camera and microphone placed in the vase in the middle of the table. All of their actions, their words, their betrayal was being converted into data and transmitted directly into the screen of two different monitors. 

Sitting before his computer, Jack’s face had completely twisted, burning anger churning his stomach. Although he’d suspected the two women of working together, he couldn’t help the effect that hearing all of it directly from the source had on him. He couldn’t wait to pay them both back for this type of betrayal. 

Unconsciously, his grip on his son tightened, and Zander, keenly sensitive to the shift in his emotions, started to tremble. 

Using all the energy he had left, Jack pushed his fury down and calmed himself. He kissed the boy’s head, closing his eyes for a second and breathing deep. 

It was clear that Lola chose to harm his son to make way for any future children she believed she would have, he could deduce that much, but what he didn’t understand was why she wanted Colton gone. Colton’s parents had left him a huge inheritance, the young man had no need for Kingston’s business empire. 

Hell, the young man’s heart could only focus on painting. There wasn’t a bad bone in his body from what Jack had known and seen so far. What could the young man have done to incite such venomous emotions from Lola?

Jack could only guess that there was a deeper reason behind that too. 

So many things going on right under his nose that he hadn’t even known about. 

Time passed him by as Jack lost himself in his thoughts. When he became aware of his surroundings again, Zander was leaning against his chest, asleep. 

Gently, Jack picked the boy up and took him back to his room, softly placing him in the childish red race car bed and covering him with the warm quilt. With a kiss to the forehead and a few moments to watch the peaceful face relax in sleep, Jack eventually left. 

When he returned to his study, he found two people waiting there for him. 

Niko stood near the door, but Tilda stood rigidly in the middle of the room, her face one of sadness and distress. 

“Tilda, you’re getting up there in years, aren’t you? Have you thought about retiring?” Jack spoke as he moved, making his way to a leather chair by the window. 

Tilda looked surprise for only a moment, before her confidence returned and she smiled, the same smile Jack remembered from his childhood when she would sneak him sweets before dinner. 

Something sour tugged at his heart and it was a struggle to keep himself from scowling. 

“My arms may be old, but my legs are sturdy. They’ll carry me for a few more years. I don’t want to retire now, with everything happening. The baby is being hurt, it isn’t safe for me to leave him. Oh, Jackie, I know you feel bad, but I’m even more distressed than you are. I raised you ever since you yourself were a baby. You and your son are no different to me than my own child and grandchild.” 

Jack had to give it to her, the woman was a phenomenal actress. Her eyes welled with tears, her face so earnest. If it weren’t for the way her hands wrung her long skirts, Jack would have called the performance perfect. 

Unable to control his face this time, he sneered at the woman who’d raised him. “If 500,000 can persuade you to abuse your own grandchild, I really don’t want the privilege.” 

That made her falter. She went completely still, like she was afraid any sudden moves would arouse more suspicion. Her shock only got deeper as Jack moved to his desk and turned the computer monitor around. On the screen there was a paused video of herself and Lola, whispering across the dining room table. 

Now that she was so thoroughly caught, it didn’t even take a threat for the woman to cave. 

Unbidden, she spilled everything she knew. From Lola’s affair with Connor, to her own collusion with the two for money. When she was done telling Jack all of what was happening in his household, she began to reminisce about the past, trying to use nostalgia to soften him in any way. 

Lola. And Connor. 

Jack chewed over those two names, everything inside of him screamed with red rage. More betrayal. More secrets and plots to tear down him and his family. 

With the growing fury, came a cold wave a calm. A plan forming in his mind. A way to protect everyone he cared for and punish those who thought they could pull one over on him. 

“Niko. It’s distressing, isn’t it? Tilda got up in the middle of the night for a drink of water, tripped on the stairs and broke her legs. I’m so worried about her injuries, but things at home now are too stressful for a healing old woman, it’ll be better to let her recover in the hospital for several months. Don’t you think?” Jack looked straight at his bodyguard, ignoring Tilda and her growing confusion, completely. 

Even with his extensive past as a mercenary, Niko couldn’t help but be shocked by the cold calculation in his boss’s eyes. He’d never seen Jackson turn so cold so quickly. 

Despite that, he didn’t hesitate. With smooth movements, he pulled out a syringe and stabbed it into a surprised Tilda’s neck. 

A small sound of distress escaped the woman’s throat as she felt to the floor. 

Niko worked quickly and efficiently, moving around Tilda and braking her left leg. The crisp sound of bone breaking would make anyone’s nerves quiver, but Jackson didn’t even flinch. In fact, he thought it wasn’t enough. 

“The right leg too.” He ordered. 

Niko followed the demand, breaking both of the old woman’s legs before picking her up and carrying her out into the empty corridor. 

As soon as he left, Jack stood, making his way back to the leather chair by the window as he pulled out a cigarette. 

Before he had the first stick lit, his eyes caught on the turned monitor that now projected an image of Colton’s room. 

The young man was asleep on his side, curled into a ball, the large white shirt obviously not enough to protect him from the cold. 

The way he was laying, with his long, supple, pale legs curled up, his arms nearly around his knees…

Jack’s heart jumped. 

This kid… he couldn’t even take care of himself. 

Jack sighed, putting down his cigarette and moving on silent feet to the young man’s room across the hall. 

A picture album was scattered over the bed, and after gathering it and placing it back in the bookcase, he reached out for the young man. 

Gently, he pushed the long jet black hair back, a beautiful feminine face, relaxed in sleep, made Jack smile unconsciously. He moved carefully, adjusting the boy’s position, and then pulling the covers up to cover the slight, delicate body. He moved to adjust the air conditioner last. 

The teenager muttered quietly in his sleep, his pretty face burrowed into the soft pillow, rubbing against the softness like a cat searching for kindness. It was… extremely fucking cute. 

Jack was a little stunned, and he stood there for a long moment, taking in the beautiful picture the young man made. Closing his eyes, he felt the guilt build up in his chest. 

Leaning over the young man’s head, he pressed a small, soft kiss into the velvet softness of a pale white cheek. “Good night, Colt. And… I’m so sorry.” 

When he left the room, a golden eye popped open. 

Ed’s soft chuckle seemed to echo in the darkness.


	6. Chapter 2.6:

The summer morning sun was particularly brilliant when Ed woke up. Smiling a bit, he moved to the window, looking out into the backyard, the small lake shining brightly under the glow of the rising sun. He stretched, whispering a small ‘Good morning’ to Al, before he turned to brush his teeth and put on a set of casual clothes. 

When he felt ready, he left his room, descending the stairs carefully and silently. 

“Good morning, did you sleep well last night?” Jackson’s unexpected greeting nearly took Ed by surprise, but what was really startling was that the man had taken the seat beside his usual one, the baby in his arms looking at Ed with happy shining eyes. 

_ ‘Good morning, did you enjoy your discoveries last night?’ _ Ed thought sarcastically, but on the outside, he blushed, bowing his head as he made his way to his usual corner seat. Resolute in ignoring the greeting. 

Jackson didn’t rush out to work that day. Instead, he patiently fed his son some porridge, his eyes from time to time straying to the bowed head of the teenager beside him. 

From guilt into shyness, gloomy into vulnerable and fragile, all of the past resentment Jack had harbored for the young man was gone. Instead, he couldn’t help finding the boy exquisite, his feminine features refined and soft, well-behaved, quietly intense when he was focused on his paintings, supple and curved delicately - in short, Jack’s view on Colton Wilds had taken a drastic change. When he looked at the young man now, all he could think was ‘ _ how cute _ ’. 

It was likely the effect of finally seeing someone without the shadow of suspicion in your heart. 

At that thought, Jack’s shame assaulted him all at once, turning his face and ears a light dusty red. 

At that moment, Lola came down the stairs, wearing an airy lavender dress. The light make-up on her face made her look gentle and innocent. 

“Lola, last night, Tilda woke up in the night for a drink of water and fell down the stairs. Sadly, she broke her legs. Let’s go to the hospital together to visit her later.” Jack turned his eyes away from the young man as he spoke, his voice warm despite the sharp icy coldness in his eyes. 

“W-what? Broke her leg? Why didn’t I hear anything last night!?” Lola’s surprise got the best of her, her effortless mask slipping for a moment to show the anger she harbored underneath. She was quick to recover though, Jack had to give her that. 

Jack though, wouldn’t slip up. Showing his own doubts, he shrugged. “When she fell, she hit her head on the stairs and fainted. This morning, one of the house keepers, Vivi, was starting breakfast when she found her on the floor. The past few months have been hard for her, we have to make sure she’s well taken care of in the hospital. You know she personally raised me, I’ve never seen her as just another nanny.” He was laying it on thick, using her own deceptions against her. He reached out a bit, using just his fingertips to smooth over the curve of Lola’s cheek. 

It would have been an intimate move, had it not been for the coldness of Jack’s expression. 

Luckily, Lola wasn’t paying any attention to his face. She was looking down at her hands, her doubts easily calmed by Jackson’s reassurances. 

The old bitch had never fallen before, why did she have to do this kind of thing now? How was her plan going to work now? Who was going to abuse the baby? Did she have to allow Colton Wilds to remain under  _ her _ roof for a few more months? Connor often came in and out of the Kingston estate, she couldn’t guarantee that Colton wouldn’t see him there one day and put the pieces together. 

There was a knot of suffocating tension stuck in her throat, her heart squeezing with worry and stress. She hesitated, keeping up the act despite her plans falling to pieces right in front of her. “Jackson, what about the baby?” She sent a meaningful glance Colton’s way, and Jack had to grit his teeth to keep from allowing anything to show on his face. 

Had that been some vague attempt to remind Jack of how she’d framed Colton for abusing his son? 

As much as Jack wanted to snarl at the woman, he held it back. There was a plan in place. He needed to maintain this act long enough to snap the trap on the two snakes in his backyard. After that, no one else would come into his house without being carefully monitored and researched. 

With a helpless shrug, Jack spoke, “My parents called yesterday. They’ve recommended a doctor that helps care for children, Dr. Katlyn Roads. She should be here soon. Dr. Roads is the head of the Adolescent Mental Health Center, she’s done some very leading research on the psychological problems of children. She’ll care for Zander and Colton better than Tilda ever could. Maybe with some understanding and tools, they’ll be able to get better at communicating.” 

Lola almost stopped breathing. 

Did that mean that Jackson was no longer thinking about running Colton off? Did he want to heal the boy’s psychological damage? Damn the meddling grandparents! Lola wanted to scream, her emotions were running wild, her fear and anxiety twisting her stomach, but all she could do was smile weakly as she nodded. 

It was directly after breakfast that Dr. Katlyn Roads arrived. She was nearly sixty years old, her manner of speech slow and gentle, her movements calm and measured. Her entire demeanor was like a soft spring breeze, and in an almost miraculous twist, Zander didn’t instantly reject her. 

Jack took the woman into the study and they spoke at length for nearly an hour before he felt sure enough to finally head out to the company for work. 

Lola saw Dr. Roads and Zander in the art studio, watching Colton paint, and she was desperate to find a way to stop them, but she knew anything she did would be suspicious. She needed to make another plan, she needed to turn this situation around. 

In the end, she packed a get-well basket, and left for the hospital to see Tilda. 

Both of Tilda’s legs were stilled in casts, and this level of ruthlessness finally made her understand what kind of person Jackson really was underneath it all. She’d raised the boy, she knew that despite his dependable nature, Jackson’s temper was a thing of vicious danger. There was no way she was going to even hint to Lola that Jackson Kingston was onto her. Let the evil bitch crash and burn on her own, Tilda had already paid the price for her part in this stupid plan. 

“As you can see, I am in no condition to continue. Zander and Colton, do you want to abuse them yourself? Ha! You can’t! Jackson sees me as a godmother, he would never doubt me, but you? A stepmother? If you hit Zander, that little brat will fear you and Jackson won’t be fooled for long. Wait until I’m discharged. Once I’m well, I will help you. Now, about the money -” 

Lola glared at the old woman on the hospital bed, her arms crossed over her chest as she reviewed the words in her head. Tilda was right. If she were to personally abuse Zander, it wouldn’t take long for Jackson to notice what was really going on. Jackson wasn’t an idiot, but his relationship with Tilda blinded him to the woman’s actions. Lola had no such shield to hide behind. 

There was no helping it. She hadn’t intended to deal with Zander this early anyways, but it had been an unprecedented coincidental opportunity. 

Whatever. The little bastard could wait until Tilda was discharged, what Lola needed to focus on was getting rid of Colton. 

While Lola was wracking her brain for a solution to all her problems, Ed and Zander were slowly getting closer. 

From the moment she’d arrived, it was clear that Katlyn Roads deserved to be an expert in the field of adolescent mental health. 

She didn’t speak to either of the two children, or deliberately approach them physically, instead, she guided the two children together and let them explore their relationship happily. 

While Zander hung onto Ed, Katlyn simply sat on an old rocking chair, sitting under the garden shade, and if they didn’t approach her, she wouldn’t make a move to interrupt them. 

For Zander, this nanny was basically a goddess when compared to Tilda. 

Despite the years of playing the bad guy within the Villain System, Ed had retained who he was at his core. Under all of the darkness, the thoughts of revenge, the major loss of sympathy, empathy, and humanity, Ed knew how to love. He’d loved Roy. He still loved Al. He cared for Winry, and Granny Pinako. 

Despite so many years of emotional damage, Ed found himself… caring for the child. 

When Zander sat on his lap, watery eyes staring up at him, he could only sigh silently. Resigned to this now, Ed helped the little boy frame the canvas, and then held the little hand in his to teach the boy how to draw a straight line, a curve, a circle, etc. 

There basic lessons that would have bored most adults completely captivated Zander. 

The little boy took it to heart and practiced, over and over again, figuring it out with every stroke of the brush. Over time, Ed found that Zander had real talent in painting. There was potential here, and the ‘Elder Brother’ part of Ed that he’d thought only existed with Alphonse, seemed to seep out of him in waves. 

He began to seriously teach the boy what he knew. 

\--

Jack had recently developed a very bad habit. 

Whenever he found himself with free time to spare, he would pull up a program on his computer and stare at the screen with rapt attention. When the secretary brought him a cup of hot coffee and saw him, as usual, staring at the computer monitor, he would turn and quietly exit. 

The computer screen wasn’t filled with the expected stock market prices and other business information, though. Instead, the image of two figures was projected - one big, one small. 

The slender teenager held the small child in his arms, his bigger hands holding the child’s hand as they painted on the canvas together. Set on a small table across from the pair was an apple and a banana, apparently it was their muse for the day. 

Gradually, the older boy let go of the child’s hand, falling back and letting the child paint freely. Gentle golden eyes focused intently on him. 

After a long while, he picked up his own palette and brush and quickly turned to start on his own white canvas, but always keeping a careful eye on the small child still painting happily beside him. 

The older boy used the oldest painting styles, there was no discernible shape, only the boy himself knew how amazing the painting would be after it was completed. He was gradually immersing himself in the images in his mind, when the smaller child suddenly pulled on his clothes. 

The hand holding the brush wavered, a dab of heavy color touching the painting unintentionally. Yet, the bigger boy wasn’t angry, he moved to follow the boy, bending a bit to appreciate the child’s drawings. He didn’t say anything, only rubbed the child’s head in a small show of approval that seemed to light the small boy up from the inside out. There was a slight twist of cheerfulness at the edges of the small kid’s mouth. 

They were so quiet, serene… happy. The sunshine from the tall windows made everyone in the room feel warm, and even as he watched, Jack felt that warmth himself. 

Suddenly, like he was hearing someone calling out to him, the older boy looked up. Golden eyes froze Jackson instantly, and he stiffened in his tall-backed leather chair. He only managed to breathe again when the older boy finally looked away. 

Did he know? Did he find out? 

Jack’s mind ran in circles with doubts and worry. He knew that his new… ‘hobby’ was considered somewhat perverted, but it wasn’t like Jack could control it. Especially not now that he’d finally got a clear, uninterrupted view of a pair of beautiful liquid gold eyes. Even if his features remained stoic, as perplexing as it was, when those amazing eyes blinked slowly, there was a glowing luster in them. 

Jack’s heart jumped in his chest, beating hard and heavy. He couldn’t stop himself from fingering a cigar, before lighting it and breathing out a low puff of smoke at the screen. 

It took a while, but Jack’s heartbeat slowly eased. For some reason, he felt an ache in his chest. 

A kind of Deja vu. 

Like he’d been in this same position before, quietly watching a teenager on a screen, content and relaxed. 

For some reason, there was a name on his tongue. As Jack leaned back, eyes glued to the screen, he whispered the name into the air, letting it spread around the room like the smoke of his cigar. 

“Edward.” 

For some reason, Jack couldn’t help but smile. 

\--

Ed knew that Jackson was still monitoring him. Looking at the camera directly had been a deliberate move on his part. It brought him more than a little amusement to imagine the man holding his breath, jaw dropped, afraid of being discovered. 

After carefully putting out Zander’s first masterpiece, Ed grabbed a pencil and a sketchbook, before taking the little boy’s hand and leading them both outside. 

The studio was empty. No one remained inside. 

Jack felt like his own heart was just as empty. 

Moving quick, he switched to the other surveillance videos, but he couldn’t find the two people he wanted to see the most. Anxiety started to claw at him, and throwing his cigar aside, Jack called Niko. 

“They’re both by the lake painting. It’s a public place, I didn’t think installing a camera here would be necessary. If you would like to keep watch, you can hack into the district cameras, but Boss, with all due respect, I don’t think Mr. Wilds is a bad person. In fact, he seems to have a very kind character.” Niko said, standing at a good distance from the two boys, keeping vigilant of the surrounding environment despite being distracted by the phone call. 

“I want all of the places they go to fitted with cameras. I want to be able to see what they’re doing at any time.” Jackson’s anxiety invaded his voice, and he paused for a moment to compose himself before he spoke again, “I don’t suspect Colton of anything. I know he’s a good person.” 

Watching him, carefully keeping tabs on his every move and enjoying it, Jack knew that his actions were abnormal. Yet, try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He felt helpless against the instinct to make sure the boy was safe. Always. 

Niko was silent for only a moment before giving in. With a verbal sign of agreement, he hung up the phone. It didn’t even take a second before the phone was ringing again, the caller ID reading ‘BOSS’. 

“Yes, Boss?” 

“If i remember correctly, you had the cameras also connected to the computers in your house. Can it see Colton’s every move?” 

“Yes, is that a problem? Do you want me to keep an eye on him?” 

“No. Immediately remove your computer from the monitoring system. You aren’t allowed to monitor Colton.” There was a moment of silence before Jack sternly added, “You aren’t allowed to listen to him either.” 

“Yes, Boss.” Niko agreed easily, hanging up the phone again. 

Secretly, he snorted at the obviousness of his boss’s current attitude. He took a second to wonder if his boss realized what he himself was feeling, but then the thought was gone. It wasn’t any of his business. 

 


	7. Chapter 2.7:

In the past, Jack wouldn’t return home until midnight. Now, he’d pack up his briefcase early and leave directly on time, 5:30pm.

Knowing the rhythm of the household by then, Katlyn was quick to call the two children back into the house from the lake. It didn’t even take Ed five minutes to realize that Niko had installed a lot of cameras by the lake and in the trees. He had to sigh at Jackson’s weird new hobby. 

“How was your day?” Jack walked Katlyn out, helping her all the way to her car. When he got back in the house, he kissed Zander’s forehead before reaching out for Colton, pulling him in and pressing a soft kiss into the teenager’s cheek, as if they’d always been this close. 

Initially, it had taken Ed by surprise, but as it kept on happening, he’d gotten used to it. He just gave the man a small smile and nodded, but didn’t bother to answer. After all, shouldn’t Jack already know how Colton’s day was? With the amount of perving the man had been doing. 

For some reason though, Ed didn’t seem to mind it. 

There was a certain thrill to it, to being watched. Sometimes, he would tease the man who watched him, wearing large shirts and nothing else while he was in his bedroom. Pretending to sleep in weird places with Zander, only to have Jack lift him into his arms while Niko took Zander. 

There was…. familiarity in it that satisfied something odd inside Ed’s heart. 

Maybe he just missed Roy much more than he’d realized. Not that it mattered, there was no Roy anymore, but the memories would always belong to Ed. He’d hang onto them for as long as he could, and in the meantime, he’d indulge in the familiarity that Jackson’s careful attention gave him. 

Lola had heard the noise from downstairs, and she was quick to come forward, taking Jackson’s jacket and briefcase. The couple hugged each other, sharing a smile but not a kiss. Ed had noticed that too. There was a growing distance here that hadn’t been there before. 

Except for Zander, everyone in the household could be considered award winning actors. 

After sitting down and sharing dinner, Jack coaxed his son to sleep before going in search for Colton. The driving need to be near the young man was ever present, but as was Colton’s habit, the young man had already slipped away, and he’d locked the door behind him. 

If not for Jackson’s misguided judgments and bad attitude earlier in their interactions, Colton wouldn’t be so afraid of him. Jack irritably ran a hand through his hair, he couldn’t help his regret, but his determination to take Lola down only grew stronger. If Connor wasn’t of any use to him, he’d have already kicked that woman into the dirt. As it was though, he had to hide his contempt. 

In his study, Jack pulled up the video footage of the teenager. Colton had taken a picture book off the bookcase and sat on the bed, his legs curled under him as he took notes. Jack watched the boy work for a long while, before noticing the time and then deciding to use the computer to do his own actual work as well. 

Around ten o’clock, the phone buzzed with an alarm. 

Jack was quick to stop everything, turning off the alarm and going back to the surveillance program. 

Colton Wilds always kept to a schedule, and Jack had been very quick to learn those schedules. Currently, the teenager was stripping out of his clothes, getting ready for a shower and then for bed. 

His white shirt slipped over his shoulders, his angle to the camera revealing the slim expanse of pale back, sharp sholderbones making Jack want to mouth and suck at the beautiful porcelain skin until he made little red marks. The narrow waist tapered down, and Jack had to bite his tongue when the image of that perky butt filled the screen. 

Jack only looked for a moment before turning away. Restlessness filled his veins, but he pushed it down. Standing up, he moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, taking a lap around the study and listening intently to the sounds of trickling water from the teenager’s shower. 

He was feeling pent up, restrained, and not even tearing at the top two buttons of his shirt seemed to help. Almost hesitantly, he moved to carry the coffee cup back to his desk, his eyes stuck to the monitor. 

Jack had to admit that he looked forward to this moment nearly every goddamn day. What was the difference between his little habit and being a pervert, Jack was toeing an interesting line. Still, he just couldn’t seem to control himself. 

He pulled out one of his cigarettes and lit it, trying to use the smoke to blur his own vision. It didn’t help much. The steam of the hot water in the bathroom had long ago misted the camera, leaving only a slim silhouette for Jack to survey. 

Silently cursing, Jack closed his eyes. 

The sound of the water finally stopped when his cigarette was finished. He was so focused on the screen that he nearly burned his fingers on the burning cigarette butt. With a sharp curse, he pushed the butt into the ashtray. 

The bathroom door opened. 

Long black hair hung wet and plastered to the white shirt that barely passed those slim hips, covering the most private parts of the boy, but leaving his supple slender legs bare. His feet were small and delicate, a perfect petite shape, and as he stepped on the wool carpet, his toes flexed, hooking into the soft carpet cutely. 

The boy’s skin was nearly pure white, and the slimness of his body made him look soft, fragile, but there was muscle there too. Jack had seen the ease with which Colton picked up Zander, and carried the little boy’s weight around like it was nothing. 

Jack promised himself that this would be the last time. Tomorrow, he would remove all of the cameras. It was customary now for Jack to comfort himself this way, even as he put his guilt aside and watched greedily. 

Suddenly a sharp knock broke through his mental struggles, startling him so bad that most of his coffee ended up on his shirt and pants. 

As Niko came in, Jack stood, patting at himself with some arrant paper towels, only to find himself hard. He stopped, cursing at himself as he ran both his hands through his dirty blond hair and sighed. 

He knew that if things kept on going like this, he would cave to his urges soon. He was powerless to stop this attraction he had for the slender young man. Helpless. 

“What do you need, Niko?” Jack said, his expression and voice both reflected his emotions. 

In the moment of scramble though, the man didn’t notice that on the screen, the young man smiled a bit, quietly whispering, “Good night, perverted bastard.” 

\--

Two months passed by fast, and soon, summer vacation was over. 

Jack struggled with himself every day, mentally and physically exhausted. Despite how much he told himself that it would be easier to find a way to stay away from Colton, he couldn’t. There was a need inside of him to keep the young man close. He needed to see the young man’s face at least once a day, needed to touch the soft pale skin, needed to… shit. He was going mental. 

“What are you doing?” Jack frowned viciously as he saw the young man carrying a large suitcase down the stairs. “Why did you pack?” Instantly, something dark shadowed Jack’s expression. 

“College dorm.” Ed replied, hiding a bit behind his luggage, his demeanor nervous even as he rolled his eyes on the inside. 

Jack was startled. 

That’s right. Summer was over and Colton would have to go back to school. 

A pit opened up in Jack’s stomach. With a cough, he asked, “How long till you come back?” 

“Winter vacation.” 

Winter vacation?! That was at least three or four months away. Jack’s mind went blank, his ears ringing with panic, before he really realized what he was doing, he snapped, “No. No college.” He’d completely forgotten his previous plan to avoid Colton. 

_ ‘You’re addicted, aren’t you, you perverted bastard?’ _ Ed wanted to laugh, even if he enjoyed the attention, he wasn’t about to encourage it though. Keeping up with Colton’s natural personality, Ed twisted his face in a mix of protestation and fright. His golden eyes watering as he stared up at Jackson. 

Under that stare, Jack’s insides completely melted. His cheeks heated, but he wasn’t going to let this go. He wouldn’t be able to live with Colton so far away. He needed the boy close, needed him safe. “No. You don’t take care of yourself, Colt. Once you start painting you never stop. You don’t leave your room and you even forget to eat. Stay at home, I’ll take responsibility for driving you to school every day, otherwise, I’ll just worry about all day.” 

Ed sat silent at his usual corner, staring down at his breakfast, stubborn. 

Jack knew he wouldn’t be able to win this one, so he pulled out the big guns. Turning to his son, he made an exaggerated sad face, “Baby boy, your uncle has to go back to school. He won’t be coming back for three or four months. Will you miss him?” 

That was when Zander finally realized the seriousness of the situation, and he was quick to jump out of his chair, nearly knocking it over as he ran to Ed. Two small hands clamped down on his trousers, and small hiccups started to sound from the creature now completely attached to him. 

Ed wanted to glare. Part of him was ridiculing Jackson for using his own son like this, but the other part softened at the little boy’s sadness. Innocence wasn’t something Ed had had the chance to cohabitate with in so very long, and he couldn’t help but care about the little boy who really  _ was _ innocent in all of this. None of the Original Colton’s despair had been caused by Zander, and there was no evil within the boy. 

Ed ended up caving. 

“I won’t live in school, but I need to be there during the day.” He spoke slowly, bending a bit to pick up the little boy, calming the soft sobbing. 

“Well, I’ll drive you every day.” Jack concluded, finally satisfied, he took the opportunity to sit beside the young man before picking up his son and happily kissing his cheek. Turning to Colton, he gave the young man a soft kiss on the cheek as well. 

In the kitchen, wearing an apron and preparing porridge, Lola’s entire expression darkened. For the past two months, not only did Zander slowly regain his confidence enough to begin communicating again, but even Jackson’s regard for Colton had changed completely. Before, Colton had been as good as transparent, but now? Jackson pampered the fucking bastard. 

What the hell was going on? Did Jackson just completely forget that Colton was the one supposedly abusing his son? Or did he find out the truth? 

No, that couldn’t be it. If Jackson knew that Tilda was the one to hurt Zander, he wouldn’t visit her at the hospital almost every other day to take care of her. Certainly it had to be Jackson’s parents. They must be protecting Colton. But if Jackson and Colton get any closer, and Colton talks about that day outside the hotel, what could she possibly do?

She had to find a way to get rid of Colton Wilds as soon as possible. 

Suddenly smirking, Lola’s shoulders relaxed. She’d just had a wonderful idea. 

\--

Colton was a freshman in the Academy of Fine Arts. Though he hadn’t taken the entrance exams, Jackson’s father was a famous oil painter in London. With a written letter of introduction, Colton got in with ease. 

Jack let one of his assistants fill in the paperwork and procedures while he followed Colton up to the dorm room that had been his during his first semester and began to help the young man pack up the rest of his things. 

“I’ll do it, you sit.” Jack ordered, taking off his suit jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his button-up white shirt. Picking up a few of the huge albums on the floor, he stacked them and prepared to move them out. It was a good thing Jack had insisted on Colton remaining at home. The dorms were small and stifling, and Jack knew the young man would have had to share with another person. The mere thought of someone else sharing that much space with  _ his _ Colton made a furious red haze invade his mind. 

As the male protagonist, Jackson was naturally attractive. Not impeccably handsome like Roy Mustang had been, but a strong, masculine appearance. There was an atmosphere of perfection and strength that hung around the tall man. Nearly 6’3, a pair of long legs shifted in front of Ed’s face, his thin shirt stretching over explosive muscles and outlining such tantalizing lines. 

The man moved like water. 

And Ed was caught in the riptide. 

“Is it hot? Your face is all red.” Jack’s worried voice snapped Ed out of his mind and his blush deepened. Quickly looking away. “Living at home is going to be much more comfortable. Home has air conditioning.” The teasing tone made Ed look back up at the older man. 

Jack nearly choked on his tongue. 

The boy’s cheeks were ruddy red, his eyes glittering. Nope, Jack wasn’t going to be able to breathe if he kept staring. 

Turning away, he packed up the rest of the albums and brushes into the cardboard box. One arm held the box, while his other hand held onto Colton’s. They slowly made their way towards the car in the parking lot. 

“You’re not going to say goodbye?!” 

Jack was just opening the trunk of the car to deposit the box when they both heard a shout. Ed turned to look towards the approaching man, and finally recognizing him, Ed’s malicious nature bubbled in his chest. He knew who that man was. Colton’s senior classmate, Luis Calvin. 

After Colton was kicked out of the Kingston house, before he’d had the chance to stand back up on his feet, he’d been knocked down and destroyed by this person. 

Without guilt or care, Calvin had taken Colton’s paintings as his own, participating in the international oil painting competition with Colton’s entry, only to eventually win the Grand Prize, become famous, and then suing Colton when he came forward to claim his works. 

Losing that court case had been the last straw for Colton, and it had crushed the young man in the end. 

Ed though, already knew how he would handle this man. 

Squinting in an attempt to look weary, he respectfully nodded, calling out to Calvin as well. 

Apparently, Calvin had just learned that Colton would be living off campus, so this was his attempt to put pressure on the boy. Pulling him a bit away from Jack, Calvin advised him on what kind of paintings were more likely to win the grand price, encouraging him to call Calvin if he needed anything. 

Ed simply nodded, though inside he was sneering. 

That was when Calvin finally noticed the older man standing a few meters away, leaning against a luxurious black car, a cigarette between his fingers, staring straight at him, eyes filled with ruthless malice. Calvin couldn’t help it when his heart quickened in fear, and he instantly found an excuse to leave. 

“Who was that?” Jack sternly asked when they both got into the car. 

“A senior classmate.” Ed answered, blinking big golden eyes at him. 

Jackson’s bitterness instantly evaporated, but he still mumbled, “He seems really chatty.” 

Ed didn’t bother answering that remark. Instead, he waved a hand in front of his face, pushing away the smoke as he frowned. “Put that out.” 

Jack moved without even thinking about it, immediately snuffing out the cigarette before tossing it out the window and raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. 

The smooth, natural reaction to that request seemed to shock both of them for a moment. 

Ed’s heart thumped hard. He couldn’t help staring at Jack for a long while, looking for any trace of familiarity on that handsome face. There was… there was something but…

No. Hope was useless, all it did was hurt. Roy was gone, Ed needed to come to terms with that sooner or later. 

An odd silence fell between them. 


	8. Chapter 2.8:

Roy Mustang was merely a series of intricate code. Data compiled by the Lord God to exist in one universe, and one universe alone. Roy hadn’t been like Ed, an immortal soul. How could Roy have followed him? Smoking was a normal habit, and having similar gestures to another was also normal. 

Edward Elric tried everything to convince himself to stop hoping, but the bitterness in his heart nearly had him choking on it. 

Because what if it was his lover? What if Roy’s love had given the other man some kind of power, after all, no one had fallen in love with an immortal soul before. Just because Ed had decided to live each life like it was his own, it didn’t mean changing the system would change the people in it. 

The confusion, the hope, and the heartache had Ed constantly struggling with himself, but he didn’t have time for stupid thoughts. Luis Calvin now called him constantly, repeatedly reminding him to start on his old painting for the international competition, his tone too eager and greedy to conceal. 

Unfortunately, Ed was still, basically, an unknown in the college, while Luis Calvin had a strong background in the oil painting department. His father was the president of the American Painting and Calligraphy Association, his mother and internationally renowned painter, known mostly for her landscape paintings. Her latest masterpiece ‘Wheat Wave’ had sold for 7.5 million in the Victorian auction house. Early on in his life, Luis had inherited his parents’ talents, and at the age of six he’d held his very own personal exhibition. He’d been a very skilled painter at one point in time. 

In the end, his conceited nature was his downfall. As a result of premature success, coupled with being highly sought after, had gradually led to the loss of his ambition and drive. Not only did he neglect to practice at his skill, but he’d indulged more often in partying and drinking. 

An artist’s skills needed to be polished, trained and practiced. After so long setting aside the brush, inspiration and skill had been washed away with the passage of time. When Luis found himself standing in front of a canvas no longer able to draw a straight line, he’d finally panicked. 

Instead of picking himself up and retraining himself to love the brush again, he’d hired lackeys. Whenever the teachers assigned homework or entries, Luis would let others do the work for him. Art schools as a rule, didn’t lack for talented, but very financially struggling, students. It was easy for Luis to find the most close-lipped, desperate for cash, and unassuming students in the lot. Miraculously, not only did this underhanded method get him all the way to senior year, but he’d also become one of its top students in the eyes of both the teachers and administration. 

The International Oil Painting Competition was held every five years, and it was one of the most important events in the art world. All of Calvin’s lackeys wanted to enter the event with their own pieces, they all wanted a shot at becoming famous, and naturally, they all turned his offer to pay them for their entry down. When Calvin had panicked once again, Colton Wilds had popped into his mind. 

Colton was quiet and withdrawn, inherently introverted, and rarely interacted with any of the other students. Naturally, Calvin didn’t know or care about Colton’s family background, but he, like everyone else, knew that Colton was an orphan. It had been nothing more than natural selection that had him targeting the young man. 

The Original Colton’s painting had been the result of Kingston’s deep betrayal and his own subsequent breakdown. He’d poured all of his pain, longing, sadness, and confusion into his work, breaking his usually smooth style and perfecting the aestheticism of classicalism and abstraction joined together. It had been a stunning piece, even Ed would have admitted that. 

With such a masterpiece, Colton had had the opportunity to become one of the best oil painters in the world. Yet, not only did Luis Calvin steal his work, but also dared to take him to court when he objected. 

Colton had no way to fight back. Driven out of the Kingston house and unable to properly communicate with anyone had crippled his argument, and he’d been forced to settle with Calvin out of court. He was ordered to quit painting entirely, and told that should he attempt to rejoin the industry later on, there would be consequences. 

Unable to pick up his beloved brush, Colton suffered an unimaginable blow and naturally lost his will to live. 

Now though, Ed had taken over, and his painting was also in his own studio at home, making things even more difficult for Calvin to get his way. Seeing the deadline for the work submissions getting closer every day, he’d finally given in to anxiety and fear. He constantly called, and even went as far as to tell Ed that the teacher had put him in charge of collecting the submissions before the entry deadline. 

Ed made his promises and hung up the phone, dark eyes glittering with amusement. 

He carefully surveyed his work on the easel, modified a few things he wasn’t satisfied with, and finally took it to Jackson’s study after it had dried. 

Seeing as it was a weekend, Jackson could usually be found in the study office, carefully reading through a thick file, looking up every ten minutes or so at his computer monitor in search of that boy. Usually, he’d find the boy standing there, painting, and it would allow him a measure of peace. The boy was near, he was safe, he was happy. The boy would not suddenly leave, he wouldn’t disappear, he would always be standing there, calm and waiting for Jack. 

The thoughts always came suddenly and unbidden, but it always made his heart ease. It felt right, like belonging, like security, like… it was meant to be so. 

When he resurfaced from his thoughts, the studio was empty and a very familiar anxiousness clouded his mind, squeezing at his heart. If he’d been at work, he would’ve immediately called Niko to go and find the boy, but now, he was here to do it himself. 

Just as Jack put down the file, ready to stand and search for his boy, someone knocked on his door. Impatiently, Jack barked, “Who is it?” 

“It’s me.” The boy’s voice was sweet and crisp, raised slightly to be audible through the thick wooden door that stood between them. 

Jack stiffened for a moment before quickly reaching out to turn off the computer monitor. He took a second to fix his messy folders before walking briskly to the door. 

He paused in front of the bookcase mirror to check his appearance and fix his hair, and when he was satisfied with himself, he smiled and pulled the door open, “Colt, come in.” 

Reaching out to encircle a delicate pale wrist was natural, and Jack led the boy in, settling him on the double sofa. He wanted to get the boy a glass of milk, but somehow he felt that that drink wasn’t right. He went downstairs to make a strong coffee, no milk, a lot of sugar. When he returned, he carefully handed it to the boy. 

Ed was usually comfortable being waited on. Years of playing arrogant, self-important characters had given him the practice, but as Colton, he put on a flattered expression. Cheeks slightly pinking, paired with clear liquid golden eyes, wide and shining with gratitude. Fanboy-Jack almost couldn’t restrain himself. 

Unexplained agitation nearly had Jack fidgeting, but he just wasn’t the type to allow that. Instead, he took a seat next to the boy, turning his body towards Ed and asking softly, “What do you need from me, Colt?” That had to be it, if it were nothing, the boy wouldn’t have come looking for him. Somehow, that knowledge made Jack’s stomach clench. 

“I want to participate in the oil painting competition,” Ed acted timid, watching Jack through lowered lids, whispering his request with faltering confidence. 

“I know. Did you not get an invitation? Don’t worry, I’ll immediately call to get you one, in fact, I’ll put you directly into the finals.” This was too good an opportunity to pass up. Jack was desperate to do something for this boy, to show Colton that he was here for him. He’d take care of anything the boy needed, if only Colton would ask it of him. Before he’d even finished speaking, his hands were already reaching for his phone, people popping up in his mind that he could call to accomplish what he wanted. 

Kingston Corporation was the largest sponsor of the international art even, getting Colton into the finals would be as easy as making a demand. 

“No, no.” Ed instinctively reached out, latching onto Jack’s arm, his face flushing deeper, “I have an invitation.” 

Jack was quick to take that touch as an invitation, pulling the young man into his arms, running a reverent hand through soft, jet black hair. “Then what can I do for you?” 

Ed had to swallow past the knot in his throat. Familiar, this hold, this body pressed against his, this feeling was just…

He grit his teeth, closing his eyes tight. He needed to focus here. There was a reason he’d come, and his plan came first. This was… this wasn’t Roy damnit! It couldn’t be… could it?

“Can I enter this painting?” 

Jack finally seemed to notice the 22x14 frame at his feet. He let go of Ed, though reluctantly, and picked up the frame, peeling away the protective cover and gasping. 

The face of his son appeared, looking extra chubby and unbearably cute. The small child was squatting on a familiar studio ground, wearing a very large white shirt, sleeves rolled up, but still too long. He raised two fat little hands, so that anyone watching could see his pigment covered palms. At his feet was a canvas covered in little hand-prints. To the baby in the picture, it was obviously a masterpiece, his smile and laughed paused and held brilliantly in time, even the sunshine blooming in the background couldn’t compare with the little boy. 

There was so much love and tenderness in every stroke of this painting. The warm quality seemed to radiate from the entire canvas - hope, joy, tranquility, youth, happiness… understanding. It was the feeling of finally being seen, finally being understood by someone you loved. 

Jack could only stare. He’d almost forgotten what his son looked like when he smiled. 

“Can I… can I enter this picture in the competition?” Ed gently laid a hand on Jack’s arm. 

“Of course you can.” He said, voice rough and scratchy in his throat. He paused for a moment, then added, “Will you draw a portrait of me as well?” 

It was a selfish request, and he’d never admit it aloud, but he was feeling a bit jealous of his own son in that moment. 

“I will.” Ed wanted to smile, but he refrained, nodding slowly instead, carefully placing the protective cover back on the frame. That jealousy, that need to be the only thing Ed saw… There was just no way that two different people could possess that same trait. 

Was it too much to hope for? Truly? Or was this something Ed could actually have? 

\--

Calvin looked at the painting Ed had delivered to him like it was his saving grace. When he opened the canvas, he couldn’t help staring for a long time. It was only after being reassured that the child in the painting was only imaginary that his nerves finally eased. He could instantly tell that this painting would stand out. There was too much charm and emotion in it for anyone to walk by without taking a second look. It had been so clearly painstakingly painted.

Calvin couldn’t have hidden his glee and greed if he’d tried, and Ed was sure the older classmate had taken the bait. Now it was a waiting game. 

When he returned home, Zander was getting ready for his nap. Ed found himself helping the little boy brush his teeth and change, tucking him in and kissing his chubby little face. Unbidden, he thought of his little brother. Alphonse. 

“I’m sorry for taking advantage of you,” Ed whispered, the words nearly lost in the air between them. “But I promise I will stay with you for the rest of my life, until you are old.” After all, Ed had spent too long working to support his brother, that he’d nearly missed most of Al’s adolescent life. If it hadn’t been for Winry and Granny Pinako, Ed likely would have. All of Al’s most precious moments, graduating high school, his 16th birthday, his first time learning that he had feelings for Winry, his first time finding the picture album Ed had kept of their mother, his first time learning about their dad. Ed had nearly missed out on those things, and the memory of that squeezed at his heart. 

Zander wasn’t Al, in his head, Ed knew that. But it was his heart that hadn’t gotten the message. It had already begun to care for this gem of a being, completely blameless, completely used by the Lord God to further the relationship between the two protagonists. Just like Colton. Just like Ed. 

As soon as he silently left the little boy’s room, his phone rang. A call from Jackson. He answered every question, from his whereabouts all day, to who he’d met with, what they’d talked about, what he’d done and so on. Jackson’s growing desire for control and his possessiveness of Ed was throwing him off, but it was also… fuck, it was also so familiar. 

While he wanted to be mad, or outraged, or incensed about the bastard’s unrelenting attitude, Ed just… couldn’t. He couldn’t make himself be any of those things, because in all honesty, it felt so good to have this familiarity again. Even if he found himself wanting to cry after every interaction. 

“Colton, are you in there?” Lola’s voice called out from the other side of his door. 

Ed hung up the phone and quickly changed before opening the door and quietly looking at the woman waiting there. 

Lola had expertly applied her makeup that day, highlighting her large and bright almond eyes, and defining her every present sophisticated beauty. Despite the late autumn season, she was wearing a pure white dress, her collar deliberately pulled down so it couldn’t cover her deep cleavage. Her dress was too short to full cover her slender white thighs, pressed together and lightly rubbing as he moved from one foot to the other. She was clearly dressed to impress. 

Ed wanted to fucking howl with laughter. Was she… was this woman trying to seduce him? Trying to pull him into the marsh of adultery and sully himself with her filth? 

Knowing he couldn’t outwardly show his incredulous outrage, Ed’s gaze shifted away. He wondered what he could do in this situation. What could  _ Colton _ do really. 

Lola saw the boy obviously avoid looking at her, and she wanted to smirk. She was proud of her looks, and she knew well that it was one of her most useful assets. She knew that lust and instinct was one of man’s most fatal weaknesses, and she’d always been clever enough get what she wanted. Even catching a big fish like Jackson Kingston was relatively easy, so why not an innocent boy like Colton? An orphan, and closed off to nearly everyone, he would be the most eager for maternal warmth. As long as she smiled at him, said a few kind words, and gave him a bit of pleasure, he’d surely fulfill all of her requests obediently. 

She knew that Colton’s parents left him a huge inheritance, although it couldn’t be compared to the Kingston Corporation, it was enough for an ordinary person to carve out a comfortable life for multiple lifetimes. Lola had thought about it for a long time, before finally deciding to bring Colton to heel in her own way, using him any way she wanted to. After all, it wasn’t only women who never forgot their first love. Their first time. Lola planned to be all of those things for Colton Wilds. 

“Sister-in-law, do you need something?” 

Ed was being backing into a corner by Lola. He knew that, but he was positioning himself in the best place to be perfectly viewed by each of the cameras in his room. He wanted this little show close-up for Jackson, maybe it would encourage the man to finally do something about this damned woman. 

Lola, however, was completely unaware of the cameras. Her hands were on the wall on each side of the boy’s head. Her full chest was rubbing up against him, her voice lazy and charming, “I was alone, so I figured I’d look for you to chat. Your brother hasn’t been home all day, I’m so very lonely.” 

Disgust and revulsion nearly crippled Ed. For a moment, his own panic held him immobile. It was almost as if the system had control of him again. Forcing his body into stillness against his will. Forcing his body into motion against his will… 

All of the memories, all of his lifetimes, all of his tasks and deplorable acts, it all rushed through his head and he was losing it. Fuck, Ed was actually losing it. 

_ ‘Brother!’ _

Al’s voice had Ed moving before he really registered what he was doing. 

He ducked under Lola’s arm and made a break for the door, but she was faster. “Come on, Colton? What are you so afraid of? Are you afraid I’ll eat you?” Lola was laughing. 

Forcing him back against the wall, she grabbed his jaw and kissed him. 

Ed wanted to die. 

Not again. Not again. Not again, this was never supposed to happen again. He was free, he had his free will back, he wasn’t never supposed to be forced into… he was never supposed to be forced to do _this_ ever again. 

The kiss was short. After all, it only took about two seconds for the teenager to violently struggle, pushing her away with rough hands and harsh movements. He stifled a sob, tears running down his cheeks, hand over his mouth, before he ran straight into the bathroom. 

He gagged on his own fear and revulsion, falling to his knees by the toilet and vomiting. All the while, his mind toyed with his viciously. Every woman, every life, every rape. Because that is what it had been, hadn’t it? He’d never wanted any of it, he’d never consented, never agreed. It had been rape. Every single lifetime, every single love-interest, every single task given to him, forced onto him, everything he’d been forced to do. 

Rape. 

Fuck, but didn’t admitting that just make it worse. 

Ed couldn’t stop himself from crying harder. 

On the ceiling of the bathroom, a camera quietly shot the entire scene. 

Lola watched on, face pale, hands shaking. She herself was shocked but such a violent reaction. Wouldn’t normal people push her down to the floor and do whatever they wanted to her? 

She was embarrassed, angry, and most of all, panicked. She moved quickly to the bathroom door, “Don’t you fucking dare tell Jackson what happened today! If you even try, I’ll tell him you intended to rape me! I’m his wife, you’re just a bastard brother - who do you think he’d choose to believe?!” 

The boy stiffened, lying over the toilet, shivering. He seemed afraid, and he hadn’t stopped crying, so Lola left. 

It took a long time for Ed to pick himself up, revealing his pale face and miserable eyes. 

_ “Brother? Are you alright?” _ The tinny sound of the A.I. speaking in his brother’s voice nearly brought Ed to his knees again, but he supported himself on the counter top by the sink. 

Closing his eyes, Ed took a few deep breaths. 

He was free. He was free and he had his free will. The A.I. no longer controlled him. 

He. Was. Free. 

So why was it so hard to remember that. 


	9. Chapter 2.9:

The coffee cup crashed into the wall a few inches away from the department manager's head. The man flinched back, fright clouding his vision and voice wavering, “Sir?”

Jack didn't even look his way. Intense, furious black eyes were trained on the computer screen. Chest heaving and steam practically coming out of his nose. What could have happened in the last 15 minutes since the department manager had last seen his boss? The man looked about ready to kill. 

Jack flicked a gaze over to the department manager and the man reeled back like he'd been hit. With a wave of Jack's hand, the other man was dismissed and he fled like the hounds of hell were on his tail. 

A of Jack's focus returned to the screen, or more importantly, the boy that was bent over the sink, furiously brushing his teeth. This was already the fifth time. Even through the small monitor, Jack could clearly see the blood dotting the white foam of the boy's toothpaste. 

His own mouth tasted like metallic blood, he could wait to tear Lola apart for what she'd done. How dare she lay a hand on Colton, on  _ his _ Colton! 

Fuck, he needed to calm down. He had a plan, he just set the trap for Connor, and he needed that rat bastard to take the bait. He should be on his way to the Kingston estate now, so there was no way Jack could rush home… not yet.

Damnit. 

He was just about to call Niko to make sure his bodyguard stopped the boy from brushing his teeth a sixth time a hurting himself, when he saw the small figure of his son walking into the room. Large black slippers that had to be Jack's dragging on the carpeted floor. 

It was clear that Colton hadn't noticed the boy yet, but that didn't stop Zander. The kid walked into the bathroom and pulled lightly at Colton's sweatpants. “Uncle Colt, are we gonna paint today?”

Despite how clearly distressed he was, the young man schooled his features, reaching down to draw the small boy into his arms, nodding as he carried the child to the studio room. He pretended that nothing was wrong, letting Zander paint happily, while he stood there, absent-minded, his brush held still against his canvas. 

Jackson watched the scene unblinkingly, his anger bubbling in his throat like acid. Only a few words made it past his grit teeth, “Lola Gordon, you dared!”

\--

Connor didn’t hesitate as he made his way into the Kingston estate. He was desperate to get his hands on the information Jackson had mentioned that morning, if what Jackson had said was true, then this file would get him enough money to finally leave. He’d finally steal something essential, and with any luck, selling this one would actually take the Kingston Empire down for good. 

Just as he’d stepped up the stairs, he was pushed hard into the study. The door banged shut behind him, before his back was slammed against it and another body was pressed up against his own. 

Connor was surprised for only a moment before he started to return the attentions. It didn’t take the two very long to start stripping each other. 

After a heavy round on the sofa, Lola tried pulling Connor to the desk for another go, but he resisted. 

“How the hell are you this hungry? Jackson doesn’t feed you anymore? Hold on, I can’t do it again so quickly, you gotta give me a moment.” 

“He hasn’t touched me in months. Do you think he’s getting it somewhere else?” 

“Maybe your charm has faded.” 

“Let it fade. He only married me to have someone to help with his kid. If that was all he wanted, why didn’t he just marry a nanny?” 

“What nanny could be prettier than you? Or have a better body than you?” 

They talked and kissed for quite a while before finally separating. Connor pulled his clothes back on and made his way to the computer, waking up it and typing in the password by route now. He plugged in a flash drive and copied the confidential file, before shutting everything down the way he’d found it. 

“After I’m done selling this off, I’ll hide abroad. You’ll have to help me keep watch over Jackson Kingston. If there is any movement or suspicions, call me. When I get settled, I’ll send for you.” 

Quickly, he recovered the USB, kissed Lola hard, groping at her ample chest before rushing out. 

Jack had been quick to switch the cameras the second Connor had made his way into the Kingston Estate, and he’d allowed himself to watch Colton and Zander for a few more hours before flipping back to his study. 

He stared at the mess those two left behind and felt the vicious smile curl his lips. 

Connor’s file had been set up with a significant error in the coding information, and if sold, it would tear the company that bought it to pieces. Now, Jack just had to wait for their failure before moving in to carve out their biggest assets. 

While he was anxious to get home and comfort Colton personally, he forced himself to focus on business, hut no matter how he tried to relax, he wouldn’t rest easy until he brought up the surveillance videos to stare at his son and the young man. 

When the clock finally hit half past five, he collected all of his things and immediately went home. 

Dr. Roads and Zander were by the lake feeding the ducks, while Colton was nowhere in sight. Jackson spared only a moment to call out a greeting for the two before hurrying into the house like a man possessed. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice came out stern and angry, but Ed wasn’t fooled. He could hear it shaking. 

Ed put on a show though. He paused for only a moment, before continuing to pack. 

He needed to force Jackson hand now, and in accordance with Colton Wilds’ personality, leaving would be the best way to do both. After what had happened to Lola, it was only natural for Colton to want to run, and even more so for the young man to say nothing about it. And the fact that this course of action actually benefited him as well was only icing on the cake. If this didn’t force Jackson to handle that woman as soon as possible, nothing would. 

Knowing that though, Ed could admit that Jackson was a bit too easy to manipulate. All Ed had to do was blink his large golden eyes and bite his bottom lip, and the man would have bent over backwards to give him anything he wanted. 

“Stop! Wait, Colton! Please listen to me!” Jackson grabbed at Colton’s hands, and saw the moment those large golden eyes turned frightened. Jack was quick to let go, but instantly, his arms came up to wrap the young man in a hug instead. He whispered his apologizes into soft, jet black hair, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just don’t want you to leave, Colt. Please, tell me what happened today. Talk to me.” 

Ed just shook his head, nearly hiding his face in Jackson’s chest. 

Jack didn’t dare try to force the boy to speak. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, his emotions flying wildly out of his control. He thought of Lola’s forced kiss, and his mind reddened in a haze of wrath. 

Why? 

Why did he have to hide his attractions, his feelings? Quietly watching the boy from the sidelines while others got to touch him? To be close to him? Even force a kiss on him? What the hell? How was that right? How was that fair?

The repressed anger in his heart ate away at his reason, and Jackson felt himself cracking. Roughly, he grabbed at the boy’s jaw and repeatedly wiped at his thin lips. He needed to erase all evidence of Lola. Everything. 

Ed frowned at the pain, and just as he was about to force his head away to avoid the vigorous wiping, he was stunned when he other man bent forward and kissed him. 

It wasn’t a simple kiss by any means, Ed’s surprise slacked his jaw and Jack was quick to take advantage of the opportunity to push his tongue past Ed’s teeth and down his throat. Finally taking what he’s wanted for so long now. 

The one thing that took Ed’s breath away completely wasn’t the force of the kiss though. 

It was the familiarity. 

Roy… 

It didn’t matter that at the moment, the man against him was named Jackson Kingston, Ed was almost certain that this kiss could only belong to one man, and that was his lover. 

His lover… 

Ed wanted to cry, but he was swept up in the kiss, pliant and willing like he’d always been under Roy’s expert mouth. He allowed himself to be devoured alive. He craved it. 

Ed tried to kiss back as best he could, but with Jack’s hold on his jaw and the the lack of air to breathe, he was getting dizzy fast. When they separated, it was Jack who pulled back first, but not too far away. 

Everything in Ed wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around the man, to kiss him again and beg him not to leave. To  _ never _ leave again. But he was stuck. Caught in the burning black fire in Jack’s eyes. In Roy’s eyes. Because he was nearly certain now, this had to be  _ his  _ Roy Mustang. 

With their lips still lightly brushing together, Jack’s finger’s on Ed’s jaw finally loosened, the touch turning gentle now that the man had gotten a taste of what he’d wanted. With dark, hungry eyes, he looked down at Ed like he was witnessing a miracle come to life, “Tell me, baby, what do you feel?” 

_ ‘I want you to fuck me. I want you so deep inside me, neither of us will be able to tell where one ends and the other begins, and then I want you to cum inside me. I want you to plant yourself so deep inside me that I’ll never have to live without you eve again. Never again.’ _ Ed wanted to, but he couldn’t say any of that. So he remained silent. 

“Tell me.” Jack growled, low and menacing. “Now.” His fingers’ grip on Ed’s jaw slowly tightened, leaving faint pink bruises.

Ed ignored the pain. Instead, he focused on the question. 

What did he feel? If he were being honest? “I’m afraid.” He whispered, his eyes falling closed so that this man wouldn’t see the truth in them.  _ ‘I’m afraid this isn’t real. I’m afraid I’ll be wrong. I’m afraid I won’t withstand the pain if this turns out to be some sick, demented joke by the Lord God to get back at me for attempting to rebel. I’m afraid to lose you again. Roy… is that you in there?’ _

The man’s breath fanned his lips, the hot, tingling sensation of an intimacy few people ever shared. It was clouding Ed’s mind in the best, and most dangerous way. He loved being manhandled, loved giving up control to a stronger partner. When Roy had lost control, had been intense and wild, it drove Ed completely crazy. Now all of that wildness bubbled like lava inside of Jackson Kingston, and it had burned away any memory of Lola Gordon from Ed’s mind. Washing away the nausea, and the disgust like it’d never been there. 

Like the only thing that had ever been there was Roy. Was Jackson. 

Jack was panting, his voice hoarse and harsh, “Besides fear, what else do you feel?” 

Ed’s eyes opened. He looked up into deep dark pools of starless night skies. His cheeks were flushed, golden eyes shining with unshed tears, need and desperation radiating inside him so vibrant he was afraid he’d be burned by it. 

Jack, for a moment, forgot how to breathe. His mind reeling at what he was seeing. His mind echoing: He wants you. He doesn’t find you disgusting, doesn’t despise you. He has feeling for you too. 

The relief nearly crippled him. Everything inside Jack seemed to melt and soften, his knees weakening under him as he carefully cupped the younger man’s face. Love and affection were nearly drowning him in warmth and Jack wasn’t sure how to cope with it all. Instead, he pulled Colton to him. 

“Colton, Colton, Colt…” He could only chant the boy’s name as he breathed in the clean scent of him. The hint of poppy oil and sunshine. Jack couldn’t keep himself from pecking at the already swelling pink lips. Softly, he whispered, “Colton, baby, I love you. I love you so much, do you understand? Can you feel it?” 

Ed was lying on the man’s heaving chest, pressed heart-to-heart. Yeah. He could feel it. He screamed the moment Jack entered him, his nails biting into the older man’s skin, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, and only one he could actively hang on to. 

This  _ was _ Roy. It had to be. This was his lover.

\--

Despite a near certainty that Jackson was his lover, Ed found himself wondering what would happen once the female protagonist appeared in their lives. 

It didn’t take long for Ed to decide that he didn’t care. He would live in the moment with his lover, and cherish every second they got together. After all, Ed had the ability to leave anytime he wanted to. And he would, if he felt like he would lose his lover to some woman just because they were the Lord God’s ‘meant-to-be’. 

A month later, The Academy of Fine Arts released the pressing news - This season, only five works sent to participate in the competition were chosen as finalists, and eligible for the grand prize. 

In this kind of art event, it was an honor just to make it into the finals. Not only was it instant publicity, but your work would be evaluated by art Master from around the world. If someone wanted notoriety, there was no better place to get it than the finals. 

The notification letter not only printed the name of the artists, but attached a photo of their work beside it. The oil painting department’s students were all pushing and shoving to read the notice on the board first. 

“This.. This is my work. Why is it under Luis Calvin’s name?” Ed’s voice was soft, but it seemed to quiet everyone in the room at once. When the teacher’s harsh gaze turned to him, Ed paled. 

“This was obviously hand painted by Luis Calvin, I watch him complete it. Why would you say it’s yours? What evidence do you have?” 

The teacher knew the painting was stolen, Ed was sure of it, but money made the world go around, and even teachers could be bribed. Just because it was art, didn’t mean this world would be any more pure and simple than the business world. Likely, the teacher thought that he was helping Ed, by forcing him to learn that lesson sooner, rather than later. 

Ed wanted to sneer. 

“Yeah, that’s right. We share a studio with Luis. We personally watched him paint it.” Several students began to echo the statement. Apparently Calvin had prepared himself well for this moment. 

Calvin took the notice off the board and patted Ed’s shoulder, laughing kindly, “Colton, only speak if you have evidence. You know I can sue you for slander, right?” 

Ed’s anger was a cold thing, but for the sake of his plan, he had to act cowed. He forced his face to pale, a look of sadness, desperation, and fear in his eyes. He looked to his teacher, only to have the man look away in shame. Several students shifted as well, embarrassed and unnerved. Slowly, Ed turned, and walked away. 

Calvin took a deep breath and then released it. He was certain that an orphan nobody wouldn’t be able to stir up too much trouble. With that thought firmly in his mind, he invited the other students out to eat, insisting that he’d pay for them. Everyone cheered, pushing and shoving each other playfully as they left the school, everyone in high spirits. 

Ed went to a secluded corner, rubbed at his eyes to make them water, cleared his throat, and then dialed. 

The second the other person picked up, Ed sobbed, “J-Jack.” 

The thick, nasally voice on the phone almost made Jack jump out of his seat. Gripping the phone tighter, worry in his heart, he asked, “What’s wrong, baby? Did something happen? Are you okay? Don’t worry, I’m here, okay? Tell me where you are, I’m coming to get you now.” 

“I’m at school. J-Jack, I’m… I don’t wanna be here.” 

Jack was quick to appease him, whispering soothing words down the line to try and calm the crying boy. Once he got to the car, he told Colton to stay put and hung up the phone, going from 0 to 60 in two seconds flat to reach his Colton. 

Ed knew he could easily handle Luis Calvin if he wanted to, but he was Colton Wilds now. Colton’s world revolved around painting and Jackson, and that was the way it had to be. Colton didn’t need to know the dirtier parts of the world. 

From the very beginning, it had been Ed’s intention to let Jackson fight his battles for him. It’s what Jackson _ owed _ the Original Colton, after all. 

As for finding out that Jackson Kingston was his lover… well, that had been completely accidental, but it wasn’t like Ed was going to complain about it. 

This was a second chance with the man he loved. Another life to live, loving him. Ed would take advantage of it for however long it lasted. After all, Roy may have followed him here, but Ed didn’t know if Roy would be able to go any further. Everybody was allowed one miracle. Maybe this one was Ed’s. 

The Roy Ed had known would tear the world apart for Edward. He’d rip the stars out of the sky if Ed had only asked him to. And so far, Jackson wasn’t any different. 

Poor Luis Calvin had no idea who he had just provoked. 


	10. Chapter 2.10:

Seeing the puffy red eyes of his love, hiding timidly in a corner, Jack panicked. He rushed towards the boy, pulling the slight body into his arms and kissing the wet cheeks while he whispered, “What's wrong, baby? What happened? Talk to me, Love, please.”

Ed did. Buried in the familiar arms of his lover, he choked out the entire story. Jack didn't even hesitate, he dragged Ed up to the school Director's office. The instant the whole story was out, the Director called for Luis Calvin and the teacher that mentored the oil painting department.

As soon as Calvin entered the room, followed by his band of art students and the wayward teacher, Ed shrunk, nearly hiding himself behind Jackson as he grabbed at the taller man's clothes.

Something hot and protective lit in Jack’s chest, his anger rising at Ed's show off fear. He wrapped an arm around the younger man's waist and pulled him forward, letting the boy hide himself in Jack's suit jacket. He whispered reassurances, but his eyes were murderous.

The teacher and the other students recognized Jackson Kingston instantly. The man was on the cover of nearly every financial magazine for the last few years, and as a result, they suddenly realized they may have just made a terrible mistake. Especially with how close and intimate Jack and Colton seemed.

Without spearing a breath to greet the new comers, Jack turned back to the Director, who now had the school's Principal by his side.

“I witnessed Colton Wilds create this painting _‘Bright’_ myself. I don't know why it's under some other name, but I'm here today to resolve this matter. To avoid further unnecessary misunderstandings in the future, I'm going to record this conversation. Is that acceptable to everyone?” Though he asked the room in general, he directed the question at the school's Director and Principal. After all, there was nothing the teacher or Calvin could say. To speak against being recorded would be like admitting guilt, and as arrogant as he was, Calvin would never admit to anything.

In his mind, he and his lackeys were all too well prepared to be caught. With so many witnesses, what did he have to fear. Confidently, he nodded his own agreement to being recorded.

Anxiety twisted the teacher's face, and with a shaking voice, he asked, “Mr. Kingston, what's your relationship with Colton?”

Jack sneered at the frightened man. “What does it matter what my relationship to Colt is?” deciding to ignore the man, Jack turned to Calvin. “Where and when did you finish that painting? Who is the little boy in the painting?”

“I started in the beginning of September and finished at the end of October. I had been painting in the school's studio, the teacher and my classmates can testify to that. The kid in the painting doesn't exist. He is the image of my future child, someone happy and creative, someone pure and innocent. I painted the boy I hope to have in the future…”

Calvin's insecurities loosened his lips. He spoke nearly endlessly about his thoughts and feeling while painting, and his process through the long hours. Behind him, the group of classmates nodded along, even the teacher chipped in with a few words of agreement.

Jack listened and recorded the whole shit show.

Ed had started the painting in mid-July, and finished by the end of September, and the whole process had been faithfully recorded by Jackson himself. Moreover, the man was claiming to have painted his future child, when the boy already existed. If nothing else, they had Luis Calvin in the hole for portrait rights alone.

While the story was told, neither Jack nor Colton interrupted the man. Merely recorded it faithfully, allowed Calvin to dig his own grave before they buried him in it.

When Calvin was done speaking, Jack rounded on the teacher, asking him multiple questions, making sure the man incriminated himself sufficiently enough to sink with this ship when it went down.

When he was finally satisfied, Jack nodded to the Director and the Principal. “I'll be leaving first. This case will be transferred to my lawyer, and we'll be in contact. I sincerely hope something like this never happens in this school again, gentlemen.”

Taking hold of Colt's hand and intertwining their fingers together, Jack walked right out of the office with the boy trailing behind him.

The Principal was the first to move, leading the two men to the door with every ounce of polite courtesy he had. “Of course, Mr. Kingston. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

As soon as the two were gone, the Principal rounded on Calvin. “Call your parents immediately. Ask them to help you find the best lawyer, with any luck, you will be able to settle this out of court.”

Calvin refused to let it go. “Principal, why should I try to settle it out of court? _'Bright’_ is masterpiece. I painted it myself. So many people can testify to that!”

The Director gave Calvin an incredulous look. “You drew it? Is that so? Then tell me how you could have drawn Mr. Kingston's son without having met the boy once? What imagined future child. Just repeating those words, I can't help feeling sorry for you.”

The second they heard 'Mr. Kingston's son’ everyone paled. They all finally understood that they had irrevocably backed the wrong horse in this race. And in all likelihood, they'd just lost everything.

Calvin, rather than embarrassed by being caught,  was outraged. “No. Colton told me that kid didn't exist!”

The Principal sighed, his hand coming up to drag across his own face in pure exasperation. Without an ounce of pity left, he ruthlessly kicked everyone out of the Director's office, harshly banging the door shut behind the entire group. No one in that group would have much of a future left after everything was said and done.

Luis Calvin went home like a beaten puppy, his tail between his legs and disgrace on his face. Not that it helped him any. There was nothing his parents could do to fight against Kingston Industries. Despite the entire court case being closed to the public in an attempt to protect Zander from the general media, the Calvin name was dragged through too much mud to come out of the other side clean. With the scandal of plagiarism in the family and having to pay an obscene amount to the Kingston family for reparations, even Luis’ parents lost their prestige, facing ridicule and harsh media retribution until they decided to pack up and move somewhere no one who the name Calvin.

Even the teacher that mentored the oil painting class suffered his own punishment, getting fired and blacklisted by every university world wide for taking bribes from a student.

Everyone else involved also dropped out of the Art Academy, going on to live inconspicuous lives.

\--

On the way home, Ed turned his head to hide a slight smile, before schooling his expression and facing Jack, “Calvin has so many witnesses, and all we have is baby Zander… is it possible we could lose the lawsuit?”

“How can we? We have irrefutable evidence, baby. I promise.” Jack ran his hand through the boy’s soft hair.

“What evidence?” Ed asked, blinking a pair of innocent eyes.

Jack faltered, laughing nervously, “D-don’t worry, baby. Just believe me, I have the evidence we need. The trial, the information, just leave all of that to me, I’ll take care of it for you. Do you have any other paintings? Give them to me, I’ll fix your entry in the contest.”

Ed enjoyed Jack’s restless fidgeting for a moment, before allowing a small smile on his face and nodding. “I have a painting that’s almost as good as _‘Bright’_ , help me send it in? Oh, and can we not have a public trial? I’m afraid of how it will affect Zander’s life.”

That was true, the media would dig into the back story, and Zander would inevitably be pushed out into the public eye. He was so young and innocent, Jack wouldn’t ever wish that on his son. Although Ed knew he had the strength to protect the boy, he still felt guilty for using the kid’s portrait to catch his own snake.

Jackson couldn’t read Ed’s thoughts, all he could see was the young man’s love for his son, and his heart softened. He pulled Ed in, kissing the boy gently before pulling back.

They looked at each other and smiled.

The eyes never changed. Not Ed’s, and not Roy’s.

Ed was almost certain that this was his lover. The hope was there, and it wouldn’t die no matter what Ed did to try and kill it. But he knew, that just because this miracle happened once, it wouldn’t happen again.

Roy… Jack… was all the happiness he was allowed.

\--

Once they arrived home, Ed took Zander out to the lake to sketch, while Jack headed to the study to call the lawyer. This kind of civil case would be a piece of cake for the country’s top law firm, and his lawyer was quick to guarantee that Luis Calvin would pay for his mistake.

When he hung up the phone, Jack lit a cigar and stood by the window, gazing down at the figure of his son and his lover, happy painting in the warm light of the evening sun.

He was sure that, until this moment, he’d never felt peace like this in his life.

Just then, Lola pushed the door of the study open, letting it bang against the wall as she stormed in, in her hand was a wallet of credit cards, “Jackson! Jackson why are my cards all frozen?!”

Jack turned around to look at her. The peace he felt still hanging on the edges of his tone, “Lola, come here. I have something to show you.”

Lola walked over, and bent to look at the computer screen.

Jack pressed the space bar to play the video. The sound was instant.

Moaning, groaning, and rhythmic slapping sounds could be heard echoing around the room, on the screen, two bodies rocked together in various different positions. It was actually pretty good for admixture porn.

Lola’s face paled, and she staggered back. Bile crawling up her throat, as she tried to stutter out some explanation. “J-Jack… it was… I didn’t. I was forced, Jack, please… don’t…”

Jack ignored her completely, picking the phone back up from his desk and making a quick call.

Not even fifteen minutes later, several police officers moved into the house, swiftly arresting a hysterical Lola for fraud, theft, and infringement of commercial secrets. Because of the large level of her crimes, Lola would receive the highest sentence, as well as being forced to pay an astronomical amount to the Kingston group. The judge was also quick to annul their marriage, letting Jack walk away a free man.

As for Connor?

Connor Kino was found dead by suicide in a motel in New Mexico.

\--

It took three years for Dr. Roads to retire, and Jack knew that he had to find another nanny to take care of his son and his lover. The two of them were oblivious to everything once they started to paint, and if no one was there to remind them, Jack knew they were guaranteed to starve themselves to death.

That was one of the main reasons why Jack was reluctant to dismantle the home surveillance system.

The interview for that day, was a girl named Evelyn. When she knocked on the door of the Kingston estate, it was Ed who answered.

“Oh my god! You-you’re Colton Wilds! You’re the artist who painted _‘Homeward Journey’_ , you’re that Colton Wilds, right?” Evelyn was shouting, pointing a shaking finger at the handsome young boy staring at her with wide eyes in the entryway of the Kingston house.

 _‘Homeward Journey’_ was the painting that had been sent to replace _‘Bright’_ in the art competition three years ago. It had been a sort of self portrait, dedicated to an Edward Elric that had died a very long time ago.

A young man, with long blond hair and golden eyes, fell into a woman’s lap. The woman had one hand in his hair, while the other covered the majority of his face. They were leaning against each other, surrounded by a field of roses. The scene was haunting, and it seemed as if a breeze blew through their field. It was warm, and bright, and innocent, but behind the boy was an endless path of bloody thorns.

The boy’s legs were curled up under him, the soles of his feet stained with blood and wounds. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the pain and hardship the young man had faced while he’d made his way to the woman. It was a brilliant surrealist painting, with a perfected classical touch. Warm tones telling a sad story. With the boy quietly laying there in the woman’s arms, so beautiful and at peace, anyone who passed by would be drawn in by the boy, often times tempted to reach out to feel his breath, to make sure he was still alive.

The young man was so tender, it was unimaginable, the burdens he’d bared alone. No one was left unaffected.

When the painting was exhibited, many people gave into the temptation to feel for the boy’s breath. In order to keep the public from damaging the painting, the museum organizers put up a sign that read **‘Stop touching. The boy is still alive!’**

The artist’s overwhelming skill and sincere affection gave the painting a life and a soul of its own. It had won that year’s competition by a landslide.

For Colton, it was fame, but for Jack, it had induced a series of nightmares that had lasted several months.

Although the organizers had said, **‘He is alive!’** Jack knew the truth. After all, Ed had explained it to the him when he’d asked. The woman the young man had rushed to embrace, was his dead mother. The eagerness to fall into her arms, was an eagerness to embrace death after so much pain. It was the hidden meaning that almost nobody understood, that truly made the painting come alive for those that did.

Jack had been frightened, and as a result, increased his surveillance of the boy. If Colton disappeared from his line of sight for more than five minutes, he would begin to panic, getting restless and anxious. Often times, he’d call Niko to go and find the boy. Jack had no doubt his bodyguard knew the exact nature of Jack’s feelings for the boy.

At that very moment, Jack was livid, staring at the screen his an overflowing anger. Colton and Evelyn were apparently getting along well, and through his headphones, he could hear the girl giggling.

“Do you know how to make cookies? My nephew loves them.” Ed said, turning to look at the goddess. The belated female protagonist that was destined to save both Zander and Jackson in the end.

“I can! Should I make a few now, for you and the little boy to try?” The girl’s cheeks were pink, her eyes shiny and her smile breathtaking.

Due to _‘Homeward Journey’_ , Evelyn already admired Colton Wilds, and she would never have believed she’d be luck enough to have him as her future employer.

“Sure. The kitchen has everything you need, so just use it.” Ed said, pointing at the cupboards.

The girl was quick to agree, reaching for an apron just as Niko walked into the room. When he stopped by Evelyn, the room stilled. “Mr. Wilds, the boss just called. He’s found a good nanny to replace Dr. Roads, so you can stop doing the interviews now. I’ll walk this lady out.” He had barely finished speaking before he was pulling Evelyn out of the Kingston estate.

Ed wanted to laugh out loud, but that would be too out of character.

It didn’t take long for Jack to actually hire a new nanny. A sixty-five year old lady with a face like a dried orange peel, but kindness to spare for anyone and everyone.

Ed took one look at her, and snorted.

His jealous bastard hadn’t changed. Not in the last life, and not in this one.

A kind of melancholy sadness filled Ed’s chest at that thought.

He had his lover for another lifetime.

He really couldn’t ask for more.

**Author's Note:**

> To all the people who've commented, and shown me such love in the first part of this series, I'm going to give you guys a shout out right now: 
> 
> Amnine: thank you so much. I promise you, Ed's going to get even more sly in later chapters. It's all about who he's reincarnated as. 
> 
> Pocket_Dictator: Here you go! My next Take! I hope you like it!!
> 
> BeautyWithMelancholy: lol I'm so happy you enjoyed this so far, and rest assured, I'm working on it. Thank you so much for the support.
> 
> missekatte: I hope you enjoy where I'm taking this story. We've got a ways to go yet, I'm not sure how many lives I'm going to put our Edward Elric through, but it'll be long... so yeah. Stick with me!
> 
> peppa: OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I was so worried about getting the business things correct, I did a lot of research and took a lot from the original work, but I had to write it in a way that other people would understand it, and for that, I needed to understand it first, and I'm so glad you said that because, it actually makes me feel really good about it. 
> 
> ImmaRwaffle: It is unique, but it is not really mine. The plot itself is from a Light Novel called Quickly Wear The Devil's Face, and it is amazing. I recommend it to everyone. The only problem with it, is the way the translations work (This is not a dig at whoever translated it, they did a fucking fantastic job okay, its literally just the structure that Chinese culture usually flow through is completely different than Western writing styles, and to some it may cause confusion and a bit of frustration. The translators do a thankless job, and they deserve the fucking world! I LOVE THE PEOPLE WHO TAKE TIME OUT OF THEIR LIVES TO DO SOMETHING NEARLY EVERYONE FORGETS TO THANK THEM FOR! THEY ARE FUCKING AMAZING HUMAN BEINGS AND ANYONE WHO DOESN'T THINK SO CAN FIGHT ME!!!)
> 
> Neverlayer: Oh, I am so very much looking forward to continuing this work in the future :) I just hope you guys will stick with me! Enjoy this second part though, it should be fun.


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